


Here Brave Men Struggled

by KeelieThompson1



Series: And every tale condemns me [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Human Experimentation, Kid Fic, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Post-HYDRA Reveal, Pre-Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-06-05 11:27:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6702898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeelieThompson1/pseuds/KeelieThompson1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Winter Soldier, Steve hunts down Bucky Barnes with Sam Wilson while the rest of the team make a discovery. The adults' version of what was happening in 'Made with Blood Sweat and Tears'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Updated on Sundays

**Steve - 1941, Brooklyn**

Behind Steve, Billie Holiday's latest song was playing from the dance hall; the music was loud enough to be heard out on the street. There was a flurry of people going in and out, dames dressed up to the nines, their hand on a man's arm and how proud did those guys look to be helping them get up the stairs with grace?

There were very few times where his size worked in his favour. Getting through crowds without having to shove at people was easy as hell, especially when his own thin shoulders curled in a little at the sight of puffed up chests and straining jackets.

Maybe it was a little petty or pathetic, but he wasn't really in the mood to be anything else.

Bucky was by the railings, back to the street and the crowds going in an out. The cars occasionally blocked him from view, but every time they passed, there he still was. His back hunched over and his body at a slight angle while his elbows were on the rails. Thin wisps of smoke meandered up into the air and his suit jacket flapped in the gentle breeze.

It stirred something that was probably envy, Steve thought as he crossed the road and approached his friend. He aimed for a spot next to him and could tell the moment Bucky realised he was there.

His friend said nothing, but instead took a long drag on his cigarette and then patted at his pocket for a lighter and held it out to Steve. Digging in for his asthma cigarettes, Steve lit up and then handed the lighter back to Bucky.

"This ain't like you," Steve said, staring down at the hillside below. The bit of countryside didn't last far, there was a wall within a hundred paces and then a building beyond it.

Bucky hummed at that. "No luck?" he asked, turning his head to Steve finally and glancing behind them to the dance hall.

"No." Steve hunched his shoulders a little, finding more enjoyment on an almost too cold quiet evening with Bucky than the heaving, busy, glamorous inside of the dance hall complete with varying perfumes and sticky looking lipstick. "This was your idea," he added, slightly irritated.

And it had been. Bucky had been acting weird all week and, as far as Steve was aware it was over some dame, one that Bucky had been stepping out with a while ago and then started hunting down this month.

"You find her?"

Flicking his thumb at the butt with practised ease, Bucky nodded. "You remember her? Rose?"

It was kinda hard to keep up with Bucky's dames sometimes but Steve was pretty sure he remembered her. "Red head?" he asked.

"Natural," Bucky said with an attempt at his usual grin. It faltered and faded pretty quick though and Steve frowned.

"Buck?"

"I knocked her up."

The bottom fell out from Steve's stomach as he stared at Bucky in shock. "Jeez, Buck I-"

"She ain't…" Bucky scrubbed a hand across his forehead and then shook his head again. "Didn't stick." He frowned as he said it and stared off again. "I'd have married her Steve. I mean, it would have been the right thing, right? But…guess I should stop being some dumb punk sniffing around and foolin' around."

"You're allowed to be upset," Steve said quietly, taking another drag of his own cigarette, trying to get his head around the conversation. He knew that Bucky occasionally went a bit further with some of the gals he stepped out with. It happened…well, for fellas that weren't Steve. But this…

"We'd have been terrible married."

"You'd have been a good father though."

Bucky looked at him fully this time and Steve could see the faint red rims of his eyes. "Not so sure," Bucky said and then shrugged. "I need to be careful," he said with a nod. "Next time this happens, Stevie…" he drew in a breath and then tossed the finished cigarette out across the hillside. "I'll be the right kind of person," he decided.

"You are," Steve said firmly, clapping him on the shoulder. "Stupid as hell though," he added with a grin.

Throwing him a patented Bucky Barnes grin, Bucky turned around and leaned back against the railings, eyeing up the dance hall opposite. "Let's mooch," he said nodding in the direction for home.

They turned down the road and Steve dug his hands in his pockets, trying to think of something to say. They fact that they were old enough to be getting into these situations was strange all of a sudden. He tried to picture being a father; it was always the step after getting a dame to look his way and so seemed to be an impossible after thought but…a little toddling determined kid to teach, to look after and protect-

With his conditions?

For a moment, Steve could imagine a little boy just like him and wasn't sure who that'd be crueller to. But Bucky's boy? The thought made him smile a little and wouldn't that be a good thing for the world?

That night he sketched. A round, elfin face and Bucky's grey blue gaze and his smile.

He tore it up before Bucky could see it. Whatever Bucky felt about it, he didn't want to share at the moment and Steve was damned well not gonna push him on it at the moment.

One day though, Steve promised. One day Bucky could have it.

Steve'd make sure of it.

And he was damned sure that of course that kid would change the entire world.

**November 2014 (Steve)**

The floor that Steve had been sent to was huge and open plan, like a mini night club in a way. It seemed like an extravagant waste of space in his opinion, but who was he to question Stark's taste in the way he laid out his own building.

Stark was no-where to be seen as Steve edged onto the floor and glanced around, the shield a reassuring weight on his back. The familiar pressure of it had him striding to the stairs with more purpose, his weight clunking up the metallic tread. There was a balcony-esque sitting area complete with deep sofas, and a mini bar.

There was Stark with one of his gadgets in his hands. His feet were up on a glass table and a drink was settled next to them. In his mouth was something that looked like a screwdriver but probably wasn't one because that seemed too low tech for him.

Spotting Steve, Stark garbled something unintelligible from around what he had in his mouth and then leaned his head back and to one side then almost seemed to blow the screwdriver out of his mouth. "Take a seat, Spangles," Stark instructed as the tool landed with a thud on the seat next to him.

"Thought you'd be in your workshop."

Stark shrugged. "It's been set up," he said firmly. "Looks like this might become my base of operations for a while. The other one…well…" he shrugged. "It wasn't exactly a full time work shop."

God only knew what that meant. Steve nodded and then sighed looking around himself.

"You need a gold invitation?" Stark asked after a moment. "I probably have a few, somewhere. We can get a sharpie, replace my name with yours-"

Often the only way to get Stark to shut up was just to do as he'd asked. Given it wasn't something Steve felt all that strongly about, he unhooked the shield and took the indicated seat opposite Stark. "You asked me to come here," Steve said giving him a pointed look.

"Did I?" Stark asked absently, turning around the box in his hand as if to examine it from every angle before teasing what looked like a circuit board loose.

"Yes he did," Natasha said as she appeared from the higher level. It was impossible to miss the way she moved with elegant, smooth grace. She'd cut her hair a little and seemed to be breathing a little easier than the last time he'd seen her in front of a committee. The sight of her made Steve smile and she walked over to sit herself next to him.

"Aw, you guys are like BFFs now!" Stark said, glancing between them. "And I believe what I said was 'we should all talk' not 'all of you descend upon my tower like geeks to comic con'."

"That," Natasha said settling back into the sofa, "means he's annoyed we came before he got the tower all ready for us."

"Lies," Stark replied. "Dirty filthy lies. And also, Barton is a terrible houseguest. I have contractors in and they keep finding his toys strewn about the vents."

Almost amused, Steve turned to look at Natasha.

"Clint likes lego."

Despite how terrible his past few months had been, Steve barked out a quiet laugh and leaned into the sofa. Across, Stark blinked and looked up then flashed a grin too.

"Jarvis, call our other pests to come and sit with us," Stark asked.

Steve hadn't been in the tower much after New York, but he'd been in it long enough that he didn't jump when the disembodied voice acknowledged the request.

"So. Unemployment. How's it going?"

"We joined a barbershop quartet," Natasha deadpanned. "Steve's very good."

"It's a gratifying hobby," Steve added, keeping his face straight and Stark, who had started to sneer at the idea, suddenly glanced between them as if he couldn't work out whether they were having him on or not.

Even as Stark opened his mouth to ask or to quip, Barton suddenly bounded over, jumped over the back of the sofa and land with a thud next to Stark. Behind, Dr Banner walked down at a more sedate pace and took a perch on the edge of an chair that had been pulled up to the sofas.

"It felt like there were more," Stark said after a moment.

"Thor?"

Stark hand waved that away. "So…hands up as to who put all of our secrets online and outed the secret agency that was kinda looking out for us. Go on, no judgement."

Natasha stared at him impassively.

"No? Okay so we were working with Nazis. That's about the size of it?" Stark continued.

"Hydra infiltrated the Nazi party," Steve corrected tiredly. When the others looked at him, he sighed. "Not saying they were good, just they are two separate groups."

"Captain Pedantic strikes with an almighty important blow," Stark said after a long, unimpressed stare.

"What it does mean," Natasha said smoothly, "is that there are likely to be Hydra bases scattered all over the US now. No-one's been looking for them anywhere."

"I'm leaving the country," Steve started.

"Aw, summer vacay?" Stark asked.

"We'll need to co-ordinate it," Barton said, leaning forward. "Whatever you find in…" Barton hesitated, "europe?" he tried.

They all looked at him.

"Like I know Cap's plans," Barton defended. "I didn't want to assume."

Dr Banner almost hid a smile. "As long as we send in some information to Jarvis, I can start to work out patterns, inform the next search criterias. It might help you with your hunt, Captain."

It was hard to tell what they knew and what they thought about his search, but Steve didn't push it.

Xxx

**November 2014 (Tony)**

New Jersey had been an obvious place to start according to Natasha, but it might have just been that she didn't want to ride with him to a location further away. Rude, but understandable, he thought as he flew the suit through the air, enjoying the feel of it. The only thing that might have made the entire experience better would have been if he could feel the breeze.

Eh, air conditioning worked pretty much the same.

The Maurice river was an easy snake of water to follow along and he looped a few times, checking out the area carefully.

A distraction because who the hell could resist keeping an eye on the awesome Tony Stark. Especially the science community because he was a living breathing rock star that spoke their language whether they worked for the land of hope and glory or secretly wished they had a little red skull hidden under their skin.

Still, while they were gawking or even taking it as a warning and packing up, Natasha and Hill were sneaking through the underbelly.

He gave them twenty minutes and then swirled down, aimed the repulsors and blasted his way in.

The upper level was like an old warehouse complete with fork lift trucks and bound wooden boxes which made him hesitate for a second or two because wow, how embarrassing would that be? And wow, would Pepper be pissed at that. But even as he landed and paused, Natasha appeared from no-where, legs twisted around a dark haired guy who, yep, had a gun so right place. All was good.

Sort of.

Raids weren't exactly his thing. Being quiet? Nah.

He took out the few that were above ground and then followed Natasha down some clunky looking steps that might have been constructed back when Captain America had been made and oh wow there were labs.

Bio labs though. Not as interesting as tech but it had potential. Hill was blasting her way through with an almost bored expression on her face. It was the expression that she called 'professional'.

Same thing, right?

It took about seven minutes to clear the lab.

It was again all open plan. Sectioned up but someone on the catwalk above would have a clear view of everything that happened in the lab. There also seemed to be what looked like a training area or a gym complete with sparring mats and some electrical tracking equipment as if they'd been measuring physical responses.

"What were they doing here?" Tony asked as he landed by Natasha who was already dancing her fingers over the keyboard below a huge screen.

Her cat eyes glanced up and over at him. "You can work that out," she said.

"Can you get the doors open?" Hill asked, standing off to the side and, low and behold, there were about five doors scattered around the edge of the complex.

Natasha continued to tap and then rolled her eyes when Tony let loose a long sigh.

She stopped when he fake checked his watch.

He stopped when she turned to glare at him. Instead, he flew over to one of the doors and started to blast his way through it because that seemed slightly safer.

Behind his door, were kitchens and a few members of staff cowering behind the island counter and okay, even super evil organisations needed chefs. Still, it was a bust as was the door behind which turned out to be storage.

"Stark," Natasha said on the comms very quietly. "Come here."

Curious, he backed up and returned to the central area. She'd opened the other doors, one at a time apparently because she still was a paranoid spy. Hill manned the computer terminal now, copying data and hacking through the files, her mouth was already firming into a thin slash.

"Aw, is no one paying any attention to the man behind the curtain?"

Hill glanced at him. "Try and act like you're part of the team, Stark."

"That's Mr Stark, sir," Tony corrected as he went in the direction she indicated.

"Sure it is," she agreed as if unimpressed which was impossible when you were with him.

There were more of those rickety steps and seriously, would it have killed their budget to have had the stairs replaced? Or did they have to have the creepy vibe of a serial killer vibe? Probably in the contract somewhere.

Down stairs, there was Natasha at another console and surrounded by six dead scientists who looked like they'd been hacked at with a knife which was so not her MO. She stood, bent over by the screen and there were what looked like containment cells going down the hall.

"Your work?" Tony asked.

"They were dead," Natasha said sounding very calm. "And we aren't alone."

Not alone?

Curious, he studied her. She appeared alert, but not concerned so he couldn't work out why she was suddenly chilling out at the console. Natasha tipped her head in the direction behind them where the stair well through the part of the hall into shadow.

There had to be a gun.

"It'll bounce back," he warned as he released the face plate, turning and trying to position himself in a way to block Natasha from anything that was fired at them. "The bullet I mean," he added as he turned to look and-

What the actual fuck?

They were in the shadows, but the tech could make them out. A young boy, blond and not as short as his companion, was holding a gun. There was blood on the scrub like things he was wearing and Tony was suddenly absolutely sure that it had been him that had killed the scientists on the floor.

In front of him, was a younger child. Another boy with wild brown hair who looked heartbreakingly too small for the scene they were in. The blond had a hand over the brunette's mouth and for a second, Tony thought he was being threatened but the older one looked protective as if trying to engulf the younger one.

"God, they're kids," Tony whispered, stunned. "Small kids."

The little one frowned, looking adoringly confused and tried to turn his head as if to look at the slightly older one but the hand remained rigid.

He barely realised he'd taken a step forward but the older one levelled the gun at him. "Don't," he snarled at Tony.

"Whoa," Tony said holding up his hand. "Staying back, look, see. I'm staying here, feet planted," he said. The kid didn't look any happier though and kept sweeping those blue eyes between Tony, Natasha and the dead scientists. "These uh…this is your doing?" he asked, looking down at the carnage.

Christ, what a world they lived in. He'd thought his childhood had been bad.

"And the little guy?

Panic struck the older kid. "You can't take him," he said, and his grip shifted as if to hold on tight. The little one blinked and then almost tried to push back into the elder, his eyes wide and solemn in a way that Tony was sure some people would call cute.

He wouldn't. Didn't. Calling kids cute wasn't his thing.

Turning away from the pair briefly, Tony strode back to Natasha. "What do we do?" he asked quietly, glancing back at the pair and, more importantly the gun that was still aimed at them.

"And you're asking me because?" Natasha said, fingers still tapping away at the keyboard and woah, he was not answering, no sir-ee because he might be many things but an idiot wasn't one of them.

"Uh…" It seemed easier to turn back to the kids.

It was like a really boring western. They stood, staring at each other until the little one glanced up and then peered forward, clearly curious. The older one tightened his grip and yanked him back with an angry look.

"Little brothers, right? They're a pain in the ass." Or so he'd heard.

It backfired because the older one narrowed his gaze, pulling the little one close. "Pain?" came the suspicious query and those scientists had died too fucking quick in his opinion.

"My friends had little brothers. Always following us around and needing looking after."

"And that's called a brother?"

Crap. Crapity crap crap crap, how could a kid not know the word for brother? The little one seemed to be barely following the conversation, peering around and studying Natasha with thoughtful eagerness.

"You ever left this place?" Tony asked slowly. It was hard to imagine that all these kids might have seen, their entire world, might just have been this underground lair. That was depressing as fuck.

"Twice." The older one looked positively proud, as if this was something impressive rather than child abuse.

"And him?" Tony asked, pleased as the gun didn't seem quite so focused.

The older one shook his head. "He's too new."

"Not good enough," the little one muttered at the same time with hunched shoulders. The older one's eyes widened in horror and he shushed the little one quickly.

"Ah, a boy after my own heart," Tony said with a grin. "You a trouble maker, little man?" he asked, and yeah, he could see it. There was the potential for a cheeky grin and a mischievous dimple in his chin.

The little one looked up at the older one and received a nod. "Maybe," the little one said slowly, looking almost sheepish. "I don't mean to be a problem."

Yeah, he knew that feeling. "How old are you?"

"Six years, seven months. Next week I can round up to eight months."

"And you, taller, gloomier and moodier?"

The older one was glancing between them, a frown marring his features and blond hair almost limp against his head. "Ten years and seven months," the little one said when the older was silent. "And next week he can round up to-"

Seriously? Fucking seriously?

Turning to Natasha he leaned down next to her. "You hearing this?"

"You're surprised by this?" she hummed. "How do you think people like me are trained?"

It was sobering and annoying because so far he'd been the person with the worst childhood but there was no way he could compete with that kind of thing.

"Doesn't make it right," he said, tapping his fist against the metal table.

Natasha said nothing. "Got the files," she said and yeah the screen was done. "Back up's on its way," she added as she glanced over her shoulder. "We need him to drop the gun," she said in a barely there whisper.

Yeah, they did.

"You got names?" Tony asked, turning to study the pair.

"Designations," the older one said. "I am batch A, subject 1. He is batch J, subject-

"J? Ten batches?" For fuck sake, the kids didn't even have names? Even Natasha had a name and he was pretty sure it was her real one.

Like 37 percent sure.

"Thirteen," A1 corrected. "Though they've been terminated. They failed," he added firmly.

Well…fuck.

Xxx

**Just outside of Plyussa, Russia**

It was carnage.

Steve stood at the edge of the torn door and it wasn't often you could say that about a metal door. On the ground were a few scattered bodies, their guns useless next to their corpses.

"We sure about this?" Sam asked quietly as he stood next to Steve, his arms folded. At a glance, he appeared unaffected, but a closer look revealed the way his jaw ticked and eyes narrowed at the sight.

"What would we have done?" Steve asked as he stepped in. Blood stains were smeared up the cold walls, the uneven surface making it into some strange almost print like pattern. The machines had been smashed to pieces and Steve could almost imagine the rage that it must have taken.

It didn't fit his memory of Bucky. He knew it was a stupid thing to be concerned about, but still. There it was. Even in war, even after the capture and torture, Bucky had been neat and efficient. So, in a way had the Winter Soldier. Brutal, yes, but efficient.

This wasn't that.

"We're close," Sam said with a nod. "If you want to keep going?"

He'd want to with his dying breath.

"Yeah," Steve said, surprising himself with how flat his voice was. "We keep going."


	2. Chapter 2

**Sortavala, Russia (Steve)**

It was peaceful, strangely peaceful. The lake was almost a perfect, pristine blue that looked more like someone had painted it. An old urge twitched his finger, make him long for watercolours and brushes.

In the war they'd tried to picture places like this. Everything had seemed muddy and drained, as if they'd stepped into a world of black and white and sepia but this? Colour, bright and vivid almost made him able to pretend that there was nothing wrong with the world.

Bucky had always scoffed at him. Maybe it was seeing the sights for longer, or not having the benefit of seeing the world as it was after so many years of being colour blind. But he'd still always found some charcoal or some pencils to let Steve sketch during quiet moments. He'd always looked over Steve's shoulder and let a gentle, secret smile form at the picture being created on the page.

He'd have grinned if Steve had drawn something like this. And yet, somewhere in this idea setting, was a base that Bucky had been kept in for fifteen years after the war.

The birth place of the Winter Soldier.

"You're not as quiet as you think you are," Steve said eventually as he stared at the view. Everything seemed suddenly more, the grains of the deck beneath his feet, the boat on the lake, the looming clouds.

The glint of the sun on a metal arm.

The reply was silent and Steve could accept that Bucky probably hadn't tried to be quiet. Instead, they stood, almost side by side but with Bucky slightly behind him and stared out at the view.

"You're following me," Bucky said eventually.

"You're leaving a trail."

"A warning." There was no apology of humility in his voice. "You should go home."

"I was asleep for seventy years," Steve said. "Home isn't exactly what it was."

"And it never will be," Bucky said firmly. "You should accept that."

Steve let him go, keeping his eyes on the lake and his shoulders so rigid that he thought he might snap.

There seemed no point in having the conversation now.

Xxx

**The Avengers Tower - New York (Tony)**

So there were now psychologists in the tower.

It was always bound to happen. Especially with Bruce and his yoga loving, tea drinking hippy attitude towards science. Still, Tony could hardly blame him when he'd been the one to invite the problem into the house.

Tower. You know. Same difference.

Adam (they'd called the oldest one Adam because having a letter and a number was not cool and also not happening) was watching the little one that they were calling Jamie. The youngest kid was either really smart or really dumb, because he was sitting at the chair and humming as he swung a figurine around in the air and kinda ignoring the questions.

"Can you tell me about your typical day?"

Adam dragged his steel blue gaze from the little one and that had been the strangest thing; the pair of them actually being brothers. A few tests had confirmed them to be half siblings and Adam definitely had a form of the serum running through him.

Little one had jack squat.

"Lights on," Adam replied, picking a spot to look at. "Mess in the cells. Tests. Train. Mess. Lessons. Train. Mess. Train. Lights off."

Fucking Hydra.

"And was it the same for you, Jamie?"

The kid continued to swirl the toy around.

"J3," Adam muttered.

Instantly, the kid was alert. He snapped his gaze up and tilted his head enquiringly, then glanced at Adam and wasn't that the look of someone who hadn't been paying attention.

"Your typical day?"

"Lights on," Jamie answered, though a little more thoughtfully. "Mess. Tests. Train. Mess. Lessons. Train. Mess. Doctor. Lights off."

"You saw a doctor every day?"

Jamie hummed at that and chewed at his thumb. "Most days," he said, though he didn't sound sure. He glanced at Adam again and then dropped his thumb from his mouth. "I wasn't very good," he said.

Kid said it a lot.

"Was there a doctor down there?" Tony asked Natasha as they stood at the window, watching the two with the psychologist.

"There was," Natasha confirmed. "Stabbed three times with a knife."

Adam had done it then.

"What do we even do with this?" Tony asked. "There's no Shield, no WSC. We can't just shove them into an orphanage or whatever it is we do with orphan Annies now a days."

"Swap one cell for another," Natasha agreed. "You know where this is going to land, Stark."

Yeah, he was trying not to think about that.

"Come on," Natasha urged. "We've decrypted the files."

That sounded way less complicated. Following her, Tony rolled his neck and then slid down into a chair. "On screen," he asked Jarvis and then, low and behold, there were the forty seven files on the kids that had, at one time or another been in that lab.

Down to two.

Fucking terrifying.

"There were six As," Natasha said and the files flew up in front of him. Adam, looking younger, maybe five or six? And then the five others, only one of which had the word terminated scrawled across the picture.

"Adam said they were terminated," Tony said.

"If they were, it didn't make it on to the files," Natasha said, her voice heavy with doubt. "Adam's serum level is the highest. The blood work up and the test scores show him to have been the best in the…" she hesitated, unusually for her.

"Batch?" Tony asked and then shook his head. "Are any of them other than these two that are related?" Tony asked.

"There was a third boy," Natasha said, "that shared DNA with Jamie and Adam." She flashed it up and D4 was declared terminated. "Interestingly, all the batches range from three to six."

"And?"

"Honestly?" Natasha asked. "Looks like they took DNA from six different people. Over and over. Mixed it with others but they were using six people as the base."

"Anything in the files?" Tony asked.

Natasha shook her head slowly. "Not a one. Not sure that was their concern."

What were the options there then? That there were six people out there being harvested or that there were six people who didn't care that they'd been sperm donors? Or worse, operatives that viewed it as doing their bit.

Either way, someone needed to pay.

Xxx

**Sortavala, Russia (Steve)**

The old bunker was dead. It had been long abandoned and Steve imagined that Bucky had no interest in returning.

It took some strength to get through the opening. The heavy metal doors were clamped shut and it took both of them with some Stark tech to get them prised open.

It wasn't like the other places. For one, Bucky's rage wasn't painting the walls and littering the floor. For another, it was all half frozen and had signs of quickly being cleared out.

"Exactly what are you hoping to find?" Sam asked as they walked through the debris.

"I'll know when I find it," Steve replied. Satisfied it truly was abandoned, Steve replaced the shield on his back and strode over to another door. This one was easier to pull apart and led into what looked like a prison.

Walking through the walkway was painful. Their boots echoed loudly through the complex and, deep in the depth of the cells were still some ancient looking bodies, skeletons now in various displays of agony or protective stances.

He couldn't decide if he hoped they had died with a careless few shots or had just been left.

Some cells were empty. Steve could half imagine that maybe Bucky had been in one, but the images that conjured made him feel sick in a way he hadn't in years. Sam was silent next to him, no light hearted jokes or reassuring smiles.

Probably best to save it for when such a thing would work.

At the end of the cells was another door and, inside that were some labs. They wasn't anything really left except from a metal table and straps that looked familiar to what he'd rescued Bucky from all those years ago. The floors were like the ones in a mortuary to encourage the fluids to flow into a drain. He could see where the machines had once been and there were some tools still left in the cupboards.

"Training rooms," Sam said from across the room, peering into another. "I'm gonna guess that's what it is, anyway."

It was. A circular room with padded edged and some painted marks on the floor. There were bullet marks and slices in the edges of the wall and, above them, pipes criss crossed and had heavy chains wrapped around them.

Training and interrogation, Steve imagined. He could see it, Bucky in the middle, hands yanked above his head, or maybe just hand because who knew when they'd given him the metal arm. Had he screamed for Steve? How long had it taken him to give up hope?

"There's nothing here, Cap," Sam said quietly.

Steve ignored him, trailing his hands into the wounds in the wall. There were walkways above, where soldiers might have patrolled and aimed their guns. It would have been like being a fish in a pond, trapped and helpless.

He jumped up, fingers just catching the walkway above. He tried again, this time running at the wall and leaping. It was only through skill and his own knowledge and training that he managed to angle his body in the correct way to get purchase. Heaving himself up to the grided walkway, Steve looked down at Sam who stood patiently below.

There was a flimsy door to get onto the walkway. Through it, he stepped into something that looked like kitchens, normal, military kitchens and the fridge was still humming in the corner. Opening it, revealed spoiled food that was growing in disgusting mounds.

They'd left food up here and left men in the cells.

He slammed the fridge shut and then slammed his fist into it until the door crumpled like mushed up paper.

Xxx

**The Avengers Tower, New York (Tony)**

Separating the boys was always a trial. Even after a week, that was damned clear. Adam was screaming up holy hell in his cell (and yeah it was pretty much a cell in the mini prison Tony had built underground in the very foundations of the tower) and Jamie had screamed for about an hour before he settled in the corner, arms around his knees and chin resting upon them.

Those big blue-grey eyes fixed on him solemnly and watched Tony carefully.

Scooping up the toy, Tony examined it. Someone was trying to be funny, he thought. It was a mini Iron Man with his hand out as if getting ready to blast something and the other arm was bent to put his hand on his hip like the campest pose known to man.

"It's you," Jamie said after a moment. "You save people."

"Sometimes," Tony agreed, switching his gaze up to Jamie. This close, he could see the elfin little face and the straight nose clearly. Kid would probably be a looker when he grew up. "Do you feel saved?"

Jamie shrugged, a little bony shoulder peeking out from the t-shirt that was a little too big for him. "Less tests," he said simply. "And I haven't needed a doctor for ages."

Shifting, Tony sat on the floor, sprawled out and feeling as if he was taking up way more room than the kid that was curled in tight on himself. "Do you feel scared?"

"Not allowed to," Jamie said honestly and that seemed to be the end of the conversation. His head twitched to the side and tilted, as if he were listening to something that Tony couldn't hear. His eyes suddenly filled with tears and he ducked his face into his knees.

There were literally a thousand places that he'd rather be. A hundred thousand people he'd rather be with but…

But.

Uncomfortable with it, Tony reached out and hesitated as he tried to work out the easiest way to lift the kid up. He looked too small and wriggly to do it easily and that seemed like a fair reason to give up.

The kid kept up the silent, heaving tears though and Tony heaved a frustrated sigh before he manned up and lifted the boy. There was a floundering moment because hell, neither of them knew what the fuck was happening and then he had this little boy curled up in his lap, sniffing against his expensive t-shirt and probably getting snot all over it.

"There there," Tony said, patting at the thin shoulder awkwardly. "All better."

The kid moved, spreading out as if claiming land and repositioned himself. The brat ended up with his wet dog like nose under Tony's chin, craning him awkwardly and then a knee dangerously close to his crotch. Who the hell ever decided they wanted kids? They were uncomfortable, awkward, things.

The kid wriggled again and Tony hissed. It seemed to make the brat stop and then he shifted again, as if more cautious this time.

"It is literally like having a cat."

"What's a cat?" Jamie asked, craning to look at Tony and nearly slamming their skulls into each other.

"It's…" Tony sighed and reached into his pocket for his phone. "Jarvis, find some cat video on youtube."

"Certainly, sir," Jarvis agreed and Jamie looked around curious, despite having heard it a number of times since arriving. In seconds, there was a cat being distracted by the reflective light from a watch on the carpet.

Jamie gasped and his fingers reached out for the screen. As he touched it, the image froze and Jamie followed suit, eyes wide. Sighing and feeling deeply wounded by how stupid the kid was with the tech, Tony pressed the video to restart it and then shook the phone so that the image was projected in front of them rather than stuck on the screen.

When Jamie reached for it again, his hand went through the image and he gasped once more. Seemingly fascinated, he watched the cat and giggled a little, snuggling close to Tony as he watched.

"I don't get distracted by light," Jamie decided after a moment.

"Haven't tried it with you yet," Tony argued and shifted the kid closer, not because he wanted the kid close but because it might just be a little bit more comfortable.

A little bit.

"Try," Jamie pleaded, scrambling away suddenly.

Reluctantly amused because what the hell did the kid think he could prove, Tony shone a light from his phone and aimed it at the edge where the floor and wall met.

Jamie stared at it then darted for his toy. Making some strange noise, he flew the figure towards the light. Despite himself, Tony moved the light at the last moment and the kid let out a delighted shriek, leaping for the light like he was a little Billy Elliot in the making.

Okay, so there were some fun things to do with kids.

Xxx

"You're getting on well with them," Natasha said as he left the room.

"Don't," Tony warned as he marched down the hall.

"Are we going to keep them in cells forever?" Natasha pressed.

"I don't know," he said, rounding on her. "Why am I the only option here? How scary is it that I'm the only feasible option? Like, if you asked anyone if Tony Stark was 'Dad' material, I bet the entire world would issue a big fat hell to the no."

"Well," she said doubtfully. "We could just hand them over to Fury. I'm sure he'd-"

"You're doing that thing, right? That thing where you pretend to know less and be more stupid than you are so that I'll say something and you can use it against me." Tony pressed for the elevator. "You worked for me, Romonoff. I know your MO."

She put her hand out and held the doors. "Head count?" she asked and he sighed already. "Assassin," she said pointing to herself.

"Shared life experiences," Tony argued.

"An agent who was beaten as a kid and grew up in the circus."

"What kid doesn't love the circus?"

"Two spies who worked for an organisation that grew these kids. Unknowingly," Natasha admitted. "But still…Fury would not treat them as kids."

"He needs a hobby," Tony argued.

"Steve-"

"There," Tony yelped in triumph. "I mean Captain America is like the holy vessel of all that is good and true in the world."

"The guy who can't settle down because he misses war?"

"Yes," Tony said sincerely. "Or Bruce."

Natasha stared at him.

"Not Bruce," Tony admitted and winced at the image of The Hulk playing his own personal game of flip flop with the two kids. "Thor would be awesome. They'd be drunk merry little warriors in no time."

Natasha simply let the elevator door close, a slight look of disgust on her face.

Xxx

**Sortavala, Russia (Steve)**

"Well, I think you killed the fridge," Sam commented as he sat down next to Steve.

It was still so quiet, that's what got him. Even in this hell hole, it was endlessly quiet as if waiting for something to happen.

A rescue that would always be too late.

The shield pressed into his back as he leaned against the wall, one knee drawn up to rest his arm upon it.

"Know what you were looking for yet?" Sam asked.

"A time machine?" Steve asked feeling hollow as he stared at the devastation he'd caused nearly a century too late. "I was asleep Sam. I was thought dead and I still had people looking for me. No-one looked for him."

"You mean you didn't look for him?"

Uncomfortable, Steve looked away, fixing his gaze on an overturned chair that had somehow survived his rage.

"Steve, man, he fell out of a moving train. Could a normal human have survived?" Sam started.

"I knew they'd experimented on him," Steve argued. "He never felt the cold-" For some reason that hit hard. "I should have looked," he whispered.

"Steve…" Sam seemed like he was floundering. Confused, Steve looked over and raised an eyebrow for him to continue. "Was it just friendship?"

No-one had ever dared ask it, at least not to his face. Steve looked away and nodded.

Then winced.

"It never went further," he admitted and his voice seemed so very far away, as if he couldn't even touch the sentiment behind his words. "At least…"

"You never told him," Sam said and it didn't sound like he was guessing. Steve had no idea what it was that allowed Sam to read him like an open book, but he was doing it pretty damn accurately.

"Why?" Sam asked after the silence rolled between them.

"Because…he was Bucky Barnes. He could always find a dame. Pretty ones. We knew stuff like that happened, didn't feel like it was a bad thing but just…it wasn't us. Or it wasn't him." Steve sighed. "He was my best friend. How could I risk that?"

"And he never…hinted?"

Steve shook his head. "If he did, I didn't pick up on it." And he doubted that it had ever crossed Bucky's mind. "What gave me away?"

"You really should never read conspiracy theories," Sam said with some amusement. "People always wondered about you two. The way you protected each other. Looked after each other."

"Friendship," Steve said firmly. "Love." He shrugged. "Romantic or not, I'd have died for him."

"Less of that going around now," Sam said and looked around the old kitchen. "You done here?"

"Yeah," Steve said, looking around and feeling strangely hollow. "I guess I am."


	3. Chapter 3

**The Avengers' Tower, New York**

Okay, so the kids might be a little cute. A really tini, tiny incy bit cute.

He'd freed them from the cells because, well…because. How long could you really keep small children in cells before you started to be as bad as Hydra? And, since that wasn't exactly on his to do list, he kinda had to let them free.

Which apparently meant, Natasha revealed her deep rooted terror of children roaming wild.

"What do you mean leaving?" he asked in disbelief. "Seriously?"

"We need Steve," Natasha said firmly as she looked for all the world like a woman just popping to the mall for a catch up with some pals and not like she was about to hunt down a runaway supersoldier and the dim-witted veteran he'd conscripted.

"Uh…didn't we discuss this a few days ago?"

"We need someone who knew Hydra," Natasha rectified. "We need to know more about the information in these files. More about what they intended with the boys."

"You're scared of them," Tony decided. "Scaredy, scared scared scared. That's what it is." He took a step back when she narrowed her eyes. "That's kind of pathetic," he added.

She watched him in that way she did which made him half sure that she thought he was stupid. It wasn't exactly a look he was familiar with. "Whatever you say, Stark."

Not exactly the result he was looking for but probably better than anything else he could expect.

So then it was him and the two boys and no-one else which was as fucking scary as life could get. The psychologist had gone home and, well... Bruce was somewhere else because the minute he heard the word 'kids' he'd hiked to the hills and vanished into thin air. Clint was with Fury, though they claimed to be coming back within the next few hours and if they'd found more lab experiments then Tony was seriously gonna look into building an orphanage, staffing the place and being done with it.

There were so many reasons why he wished that he and Pepper had worked out.

They stood in the elevator, the three of them and Jarvis because Jarvis meant that he wasn't outnumbered. There was a suit built into his watch in case one of them went psycho mini assassin but that probably would have been apparent over the past two weeks.

Still, you never knew.

Adam was ramrod straight and looked as if someone might have snuck in and shoved a pool cue up his ass. Jamie on the other hand was staring at every piece of the elevator as if it was something interesting.

When the doors opened, Jamie leapt out with a gleeful shout and Tony stared at him hopelessly. Adam stepped out quickly and that had to be more out of learned instincts than anything else. His blue eyes scanned the floor and then fixed on Jamie.

There was something about it that grabbed Tony. More than Jamie's childish enthusiasm. Admittedly, it was a hell of a lot easier to talk to Jamie because he gave more to the conversation, but Adam reminded him, oddly of himself. Trying to meet expectation, trying to work out how to succeed.

It hadn't exactly lasted long for Tony. By the age of twelve he'd given up.

Still, it made him reach out and put a hand on the kid's shoulder, squeezing it. "Safety," he said, urging him to relax.

Adam looked up at him, his expression unfathomable. Then he nodded, but the agreement didn't register in his eyes at all.

Well, wasn't this going to be fun?

Xxx

**Kivach, Russia (Steve)**

It wasn't exactly hard to work out why he'd been woken up. The glint of metal in the moonlight and the cool feel of the hand on his lips were rather large giveaways. Trying to remain calm, Steve stared up at Bucky who was crouched over him on the bed, eyes shadowed against the moonlight streaming in through the threadbare curtains.

Slowly, those steel blue eyes lifted to the door and Bucky reached to remove a knife from his sleeve. Steve didn't move, trying to calculate how best to react if he was wrong and that knife did end up being aimed his way.

"You're being followed," Bucky said eventually, his voice no louder than an exhale of breath.

All he could do was nod. Sam and he'd been aware of it for the past three days.

Bucky's gaze suddenly dropped down to Steve and then seemed to take in the bed. His expression shifted, just a little bit and Steve wasn't entirely sure what was behind the frown that crossed his face. The metal hand tightened fractionally and then eased off and slowly slid from his face.

"How many?" Steve asked. He'd thought four but you never knew.

"Seven," Bucky replied, shifting a little on the bed. He was in a crouch and it brought to mind a coiled tiger, ready to pounce

Huh. Steve eased himself up which was difficult given how long he was and the fact that Bucky didn't move once to help. For a moment, he thought that Bucky was just being a punk but he genuinely seemed to be focused on the door.

In the corner, Sam snored away and Steve almost sniggered at the noise. Still, he eased out from under Bucky and went to shake his friend awake.

"What?" Sam huffed, batting out an irritated hand at Steve as he shook his shoulder.

"We have company."

Sam blinked awake quickly and then slid his gaze past Steve to Bucky who was still in position. Steve hardly blamed him for the strangled yelp and the graceless scrambling.

"Well," Sam said, blinking at Bucky for a minute. "This is nice. At least he's not actively trying to kill us."

"Shush," Bucky said, still fixated on that damned door.

The look Sam gave him made Steve want to smile, insanely. Instead, he reached for the shield and then crept to the door while Sam reached for his gun. When he glanced back, Sam mimicked aiming at the door and then aiming at Bucky.

"Do it, you die," Bucky said, eyes still on the door.

To his credit, Sam just nodded thoughtfully at that and then trained the gun on the door too.

Steve knew that he didn't make a noise as he moved. Standing by the door he could see the slight shifting light as someone stood on the other side. Crouching down, he waited and shifted the shield on his arm.

He nodded at the other two and then yanked the door open, shield rising up to protect his face as he kicked out. The sound of a fist connecting with the shield lifted any hesitation he might have had about accidently attacking a civilian. There was a grunt as he shifted and took out the other person in the hall with the shield and, when he looked, there were two men on the floor dressed in standard black ops gear. A gun fired and Steve ducked, whirling. Fighting in a hallway was always difficult-

Or not. Bucky appeared as if from nowhere, using the arm to deflect any bullets coming his way and shifted easily in between the three coming up the stairs. It took less than twenty seconds to drop the team in a way that meant they weren't getting back up in a hurry.

"We need to move," Sam said, appearing at the doorway with their backpacks and properly dressed. "What?" he asked when Steve gave him a look. "You had it covered."

"Thanks," Steve muttered. He glanced at Bucky. "You sticking with us?"

"We need to move," Bucky echoed, peering out the window on the stairwell. "Police are on their way."

Yeah, this didn't exactly look good.

Xxx

**Avengers' Tower, New York (Tony)**

Well, on the bright side, Clint and Fury hadn't turned up with more kids.

At least, not more living ones.

Tony sat with a drink because he desperately needed one to get through this conversation. The kids were in bed (sort of – Jarvis had reported that they'd taken up positions under the bed like they were trying to battle monsters) and he was used to them enough that this topic was painful.

Like really painful. Like talking about Apple tech painful.

He studied the photographs. Fury and Clint had tracked down a number of bases in the past few months using the stuff that Natasha had put up on the internet.

One had been something like a mortuary.

"Sickest thing I've ever seen," Clint said, taking a long sip of his beer. "Bodies on ice being carved up." He shuddered, eyes deeply shadowed while Fury stood staring out at the view below.

"All kids?"

"No," Clint said. "Think we found the Hydra version of a funeral director." He put the bottle down and rubbed at his head. "Sick, man."

Tony twiddled the memory stick in his hand and then put it into a port with great reluctance. "Jarvis, the kids are still camping out, right?"

"Indeed, sir. There's been little movement. I believe they are asleep."

He put the screen up between them all. Fury and Clint had been thorough with the photographs. There was a frosty looking body on the table, a kid a little older than Jamie and pouches were being fed into his arm. His chest had been carved open though and Tony blanked the screen before he could take in any more detail.

How far away had Adam and Jamie been from becoming that?

"How many kids?"

"Thirteen," Clint said. "We buried them before we left. Left the Hydra scientists to rot." There was some satisfaction in his voice. "There were twenty one adults in there too. We got the files for them too."

"Serum?"

"Some forms of it," Clint agreed. "And… other stuff."

"Things from a bad scifi novel," Fury chipped in finally. "Telepathy, telekinesis. They've been busy."

"Be cool though," Tony admitted, but his heart wasn't in his words. "Is it bad that I'm hoping that these dead bodies are all it came to?"

"Unlikely," Fury said. "The last body to come in was eighteen months ago. Either that or there was a newer facility."

Shit. "Did you find any other bases they were in contact with?"

Clint clicked his fingers. "Damn, why didn't we think of that," he said sarcastically. "We checked. Everything else has been cleared out. They've gotten wind of what we're doing."

"Well, good news does travel fast." Tony took another long sip, ignoring the sick feeling rising within him. "What the fuck do we do?" he asked, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. "This? Are we just gonna keep killing Hydra agents and dealing with all their shit?"

"What else do you suggest we do?" Fury asked. "Let them keep up with their human experimentation? Wait around for Hydra to create an unstoppable army?"

No. But this was…this was dumb. There was no way to win here, just minimise the damage and that was not in his vocabulary. "I've got kids upstairs. Actual kids and let's face it; I'm gonna end up caring for them, right?"

There was a loud, resounding silence which was answer enough really.

The weight of it was almost crushing. He'd never wanted kids, never needed them in his life. Wasn't even all that sure that if someone swooped in tonight and took them off his hands that he would miss them too much.

But that wasn't gonna happen. There was no-where else they could go to, no organisation, no safe harbour and it meant he was stuck because he wasn't gonna walk away from two helpless kids that had been dealt the shittest hand ever in life.

His entire life was about to change and he was gonna have to accept that.

And he was gonna care. He could feel that already and one day, the idea that this could have happened to those two little brats upstairs would probably keep him awake at night building armies to protect them.

Or he'd become Howard. Fifty-fifty, right?

"You know I've got kids?"

Tony nearly snorted his drink back into the glass. Stunned, he stared at Clint and then gaped at Fury who simply rolled his eyes and sighed. "Got shit timing, Barton," was all the man said.

"Kids? Like plural?"

"Two." Clint shrugged. "They're small. I get back to the farm when I can. Like being in the army," he said with a careless shrug. "But kids are…they aren't so bad. Scary as fuck but," he smiled and suddenly his face seemed warmer.

Yeah…that still didn't help. "You take them," he said, leaning back into the seat and all too aware of the fact that he sounded like a stroppy teenager.

"Yeah, not risking my kids for them. Super strength aside, there are gonna be people hunting for them and that's a bit much to expect from my wife."

Right, wife. Tony eyed Clint up, pretty sure this was just a pie in the sky story that he was making up to fuck with him.

"If you tell me you have a wife and kids I'm gonna dump them on you," Tony said to Fury firmly.

"I have a wife," Fury said, expression blank. "Ask Rogers."

Tony didn't even know what to do with that.

Xxx

**Kivach, Russia (Steve)**

The place that Bucky took them to was one of the old bases and Steve didn't know how he could stand being in that place. That being said, it was secure, it was easy to defend and it was probably familiar.

Sam took watch and gave Steve a nod which could have meant any number of things but he wasn't really willing to go into that at all. Instead, he stared at Bucky who was sat on the floor, back against the wall and a Colt M4A1 on his lap that he might have picked up from one of the Hydra squads he'd gone after.

"You seem to be on a one man mission," Steve said into the silence. "It's going well."

Silence.

"You remember me?" Steve tried again, watching him closely.

Bucky made no move for about a minute and then, as if admitting defeat, finally nodded. "Read about you in a museum," he said.

"That's not what I asked."

"You shouldn't be here," Bucky said softly, his face deepening into a frown and Steve knew that frown. It was the same guilty, pained one that he'd hated seeing since the moment they'd met in the playground and Steve had thrown himself at some bullies that had been beating up Johnny Batemen in the corner.

"Neither should you," Steve said firmly. "You shouldn't be here, Buck," he said, hating how his voice cracked. "You deserve more than base after base."

Bucky nodded at that with a certain wry look on his face and Steve frowned, feeling as if they were having completely different conversations. "You've-" He cut himself off not really sure if what he wanted to say would be appreciated, but needing to say it all the same. "You've been a prisoner of war for seventy years-"

The angry snort cut him off and left him staring at the floor feeling completely impotent. He didn't know what to say or how to say it and words like this had never been his strong suit, but it was Bucky and he had to try.

"How would you describe it then?"

"Not like that," Bucky said emotionlessly. "You have no idea what I've done, how many I've…" He trailed off. "I killed Howard."

Yeah. "I figured," Steve said with a nod.

"Children."

Yeah, that too. "It wasn't your choice," Steve said firmly.

"I still did it," Bucky snapped, glaring at him. "You can't sit there and pretend that I didn't. That the world won't see it that way. And they'd be right," he added, looking at the door without really seeing it, it seemed. "I don't know what I could still do."

"You saved me and Sam," Steve said simply. "Seems like a good start."

There was an almost smile. It didn't last for long but it was there.

Steve counted that as a step in the right direction.

Xxx

**Avengers' Tower, New York (Tony)**

So kids were meant to sleep in the bed. And he wasn't so sure how good it was to shrug when the kids instead camped out under the bed with a knife.

"Something wrong with the bed?" Tony asked, peering underneath. He could make out Jamie in the darkness, blinking up at him cat like but the kid seemed half asleep and slunk back into the shadowed Adam that held the kitchen knife in his hands.

Probably should get rid of those. He lived on takeaway anyway; it wasn't as if he cooked. Maybe if he got a chef in they could get rid of the kitchen all together.

It was cool to advertise for kitchen staff who had were not and had never been with Hydra, right?

"I can't do this," Tony admitted as he shifted back to sit next to Clint who had helpfully joined him on the floor. Fury had sneered at the idea and stomped off to try and look cool elsewhere. "They need someone qualified and…parental."

"Yeah, they're dishing out qualifications for how to handle kids grown in a lab," Clint said, seeming oddly amused by their conversation and yeah, okay that hadn't been well phrased but give him a break, he was new at this and oh, yeah, couldn't do it!

"Jamie's trying to climb out any window that he can see and it's fine because the test men didn't think he'd last and Adam won't react to anything at all. The kid's like a mini robot. And I'm usually good with those, but I can't crack him open and fix his parts. Or at least I shouldn't," because then he'd be the fuckers that he'd rescued the kids from. The thought made him bang his fist against the wall and it was annoying when Clint didn't so much as blink and all he got was an aching hand. "Where the hell do you even begin with this?" Tony asked and he was actually hoping for an answer.

Clint shrugged and then rolled his eyes when Tony pulled a face at him.

"You know I was raised in the circus?" Clint asked. "If you'd have plunked me down in normal, I'd have freaked. Maybe don't try to be normal. Let me spar with the oldest one and give the little one climbing lessons if he's that determined to be part monkey."

That sounded like….oh thank you, "You're staying?" he asked and yeah, he couldn't even try to keep the relief out of his voice.

"Officially, Fury's dead and I'm unemployed. This isn't totally selfless-"

"You're my live in nanny?" Tony asked, grinning at the idea and then not so sure because Clint liked to fire arrows in his spare time.

But then apparently he had some fictitious kids so maybe he'd know better.

"Only if you'll be their mommy," Clint replied because he was a dick like that.

"Fuck you," Tony mouthed at him and then shifted to lean his head against the wall. The earlier panic was fading away, sort of.

"Fury wants them tested," Clint said into their relaxed quiet.

"They were," Tony said thinking of the blood tests that he'd taken and the x-rays and the way that both of them had reacted as if they'd been turned into frickin' statues that weren't allowed to say or do anything.

"He wants to know exactly what it was that Hydra-"

Yeah. "Over my fucking dead body," he snarled and surprised even himself with the force of his words.

"Yeah," Clint said. "That's what I said."

It surprised Tony enough that he looked over at him.

"They're kids," Clint said quietly. "What does it matter in the end? They're ours now, right?"

"No," Tony said, raising a finger. "Because if we go down that path then we," he said, indicating himself and Clint, "are becoming a family unit and I'm not dealing with the headache of people seeing us as a unit."

"As opposed to us both being Avengers?"

"Yeah, well…we can blame a dead man for that. Anything else we'd have to take credit for and just let's not."

"You know it's gonna happen," Clint said, sounding smug as he stretched out. "I'm expecting a special place in your will."

"You'll have it," Tony said with a smile. "There's a nest on the fourth floor. A few eggs in there. Go squat on them and you can hatch anything that survives."

"You offering me more kids to share?"

"Fuck off, Barton."

xxx

**Kivach, Russia (Steve)**

"So, we've found him," Sam said as they dug through the rations they had one them. Steve was sure he'd eaten worse in the war but twenty first century living might have destroyed him. "What now?"

It was a good question. Hesitating, Steve shifted his gaze to Bucky who sat away from him, pen in his notebook and scribbling away.

"I don't know," Steve said honestly. "I guess we follow it through and see." The words instantly made him feel guilty. "Unless you need to be getting back?"

"Nah, I'm cool," Sam said with a careless attitude that Steve wasn't entirely sure he bought. "Seeing the world, fighting next to Captain America? Who wouldn't want that?"

"Sane people?" Steve asked with a slight smile in his voice. "Seriously, Sam. You've done enough."

"Not so sure it's a good idea to leave you," Sam said eventually.

"I'd be safe," Steve said.

"So not what I'm talking about," Sam replied.

It was impossible to discuss it properly; Bucky was probably listening in to their entire conversation and there was nothing in the world that would convince Steve that he was ready to even think about going near that particular land mine. But it did mean that he couldn't really argue with Sam and send him home.

He really hated losing any battle, even one of words.


	4. Chapter 4

**Stockholm, Sweden (Steve)**

Going through airport security was interesting to say the least. Bucky stood to the side with about three of the airport security scanning his arm, staring into space. Steve had to stand with his arms folded, squeezing his forearms to stop himself from interfering.

"Pretty sure they've guessed who we are," Sam said, tapping his foot. "If the arm doesn't give it away then the shield will."

"They'll want us out of the country."

"On a plane?" Sam asked doubtfully. "We should have snuck on with the cargo."

"I am not spending eight hours cramped into an enclosed space with you two sniping at each other," Steve said firmly, "and yes, I know. The passenger part isn't much better but there's a movie and snacks."

Sam snorted. "I swear to god, if that movie is something like the Bourne Identity then I'm jumping out the plane."

Ah. Steve nodded, wracking his brains to figure out what the hell that meant. They stood there awkwardly, watching Bucky before Sam sighed. "Put it on the list," he said, shaking his head.

"Will do."

"And go be Captain America," Sam ordered. "Otherwise we're not gonna go anywhere."

Yeah, he might have a small point.

Xxx

**Avengers' Tower, New York (Tony)**

So Bruce could cook! He'd kept it quiet and pulled all sorts of faces at the sight of the kids wolfing down pizza and then ice cream, but the man could actually cook.

He was so gonna regret letting that one slip.

It was kinda scary how quickly they all got used to life AK. That was how life was divided up now; there was before Afghanistan and then after. There was before kids and then after.

Jamie was easy. So easy it was almost painful. The kid was desperate for attention, for physical contact. He clung to them all like they'd inserted a koala into his genes, continuously sticking his thumb in his mouth and then glancing around like he was waiting to be told off. Tony was pretty sure that he acted like a kid much younger than what he was but if that was their only complaint, then it was a blessing really.

It was nice though. Having a little kid stare up at him like he could fix the whole world and still have time to order food. The kid was fearless, climbing into their laps, asking them all kinds of questions.

Adam though?

Adam had killed people. Had definitely tried to protect Jamie, more than Jamie knew. He'd been trained viciously, that much was clear from the sessions he had with Clint. Even now, the boy could make Clint sweat and that was terrifying in so many ways.

He wouldn't talk either. Not about feelings. Not about anything really, not the way that Jamie did in that easy, straightforward manner as if what he was talking about was some sort of obvious fact.

Even in his workroom, Tony found himself watching Adam's therapy sessions. He was trusted now to sit alone with Dr Wilson but they still recorded everything. Probably would be fodder for therapy in a few years' time but oh well, someone had to keep all those shrinks in business.

His earliest memory was being cold. Adam never said how he felt about it but he described being unable to move and being so cold that it hurt and Tony had seen images of the freezing units that had been used at the mortuary, the cryo chamber that had been used on Barnes.

It made him want to suit up and kill.

He'd never felt like that before, not really. Wanted to protect or make a point, even have revenge but this was something different.

He collected the kid after therapy and after successfully keeping Jamie out of the workshop for what had to be the seventeenth time that week because the kid was nothing if not tenacious.

"Hey, kid." He wanted to use a nickname, oh god were there so many choices, but Adam always looked baffled and slightly cautious whenever he did and that wasn't a good thing so he kept his mouth shut because he knew what it was like to have a Dad whose mouth didn't stop running.

Yeah, he'd learned.

Adam blinked up at him and then almost actually leaned into him which was like a fricking miracle.

"Good talk?"

It was so obvious that the kid wanted to say no.

"You wanna ask something, maybe? 'Cause that would be fine. I mean you could talk to me or maybe Bruce or Clint. You like Clint, right? I mean he taught you how to throw a knife-" So maybe not the best parenting in the world but sue him.

"I knew how to throw a knife," came the waspish reply.

Right. "I know you know," he reassured the kid. "That was one of the first things I knew about you."

"Because I killed people?"

Woah, this was positively chatty. "Partly," he admitted. "Also you take all my knives. Frequently. I honestly don't want to chop vegetables. Ever."

Yeah, that was almost a smile. "She says it's wrong."

"It is," Tony said honestly and dared to put a hand on the kid's shoulder. "But…we aren't normal so…and they weren't nice at all. I'd have killed them."

That seemed to satisfy Adam.

Xxx

**Over the Norwegian Sea (Steve)**

It hadn't been completely altruistic to give Sam the window seat. Bucky had firmly planted himself in the aisle and nothing that anyone said would get him to move. It was like talking to a brick. That had left Steve in the middle of the two which would give the best of people a headache.

And he wasn't exactly in the best place.

"You all right?" Sam asked.

On the other side, he could feel Bucky suddenly paying him attention.

"Yep." Steve glanced at the window and then straight ahead, not really sure why it was bothering him so much. Perhaps how close they were to that flight path or the knowledge that many people's lives hung in the balance.

He could feel Sam glance at the window and then around. "We gonna have a problem?" he asked.

Bucky peered around him to make eye contact with Sam. "Why would we?"

"No," Steve said at the same time. "Just…can think of a large amount of things I'd rather be doing right now."

The flight crew kept looking at them as they had been for the past hour they'd been in the air.

"How close to the flight path are we?"

"Nope," Steve chose to say which probably didn't even make sense. "There doesn't need to be a conversation about this."

"What are we having a conversation about?" Bucky asked.

They both looked at him and…huh. "You said you went to the museum, right?" Sam asked.

"If this goes to hell," Steve said, sitting back and closing his eyes. "I will blame you."

"Thanks, dude." Sam didn't sound all too concerned. "You saw that Steve was in the ice for seventy years."

"Sixty seven," Steve corrected, not opening his eyes.

"Yeah, that makes a huge difference, big guy," Sam said. "He crashed a plane into the arctic."

There was a long silence and he was a little curious as to how Bucky was responding. Peeking open one eye, Steve glanced at his oldest friend.

Bucky was staring at him. Not in a concerned way but almost as if disappointed. "You crashed?"

"On purpose," Steve muttered and then hissed when Bucky's face fell. "There were bombs-"

"This is so the worst conversation to have on a plane," Sam sighed.

"You started it," Steve snapped. "And the flight plan would have meant an explosion in New York city. I had to put the plane down."

"With you in it?" Bucky asked.

Steve nodded and then stared ahead and shifted. "There must be a movie," he said, looking around.

"Did you know you'd survive?"

"Okay, regretting this," Sam muttered, staring out the window.

"No," Steve said, still looking around hopefully for a distraction and far too aware of the fact that he couldn't duck out or move away from the conversation.

Bucky said nothing but stared ahead of himself. The silence was heavy and the three of them sat, distinctly not looking at each other.

"How long?" Bucky asked suddenly. "After…" he cleared his throat. "The train."

"Three weeks."

There was an odd noise from Sam and, when Steve glanced over, Sam was staring out the window and biting at his thumb nail.

"One thing," Steve said firmly, "had nothing to do with the other. I did not ask Hydra to bomb cities."

"Three weeks," Bucky murmured. "What did you do?"

Something about his tone struck hard because not one of the things he'd done had included looking for Bucky's body. Shifting, Steve folded his arms and drew in a long breath. "Um…I tried to get drunk. And then we interrogated Zola. And then we started to hunt Schmidt down."

Bucky nodded.

"Three weeks?" Sam said looking. "They put you out on a mission three weeks later?"

"That mission," Steve agreed.

"And you were back on duty when?"

The next day? "After the drinking."

"And you've been to therapy how many times?"

"Shield made me meet someone. It's fine." Steve glanced at Bucky. "I'm sorry I…" he trailed off not really sure what he could possibly say. Bucky didn't respond, seemingly lost in his own mind.

"How many times did-"

"Sam," Steve snapped. "We'll talk about it another day."

Sam's gaze slid past to study Bucky and then nodded slowly.

Xx

**Avengers' Tower, New York (Tony)**

Obviously, things had been going too well with Jamie so the universe had decided to send them another curve ball.

Shifting the little boy in his arms, Tony sighed as he watched Clint sit with Adam, edging slowly closer to the boy who was slowly starting to relax into a normal position. Tony's arms and face were scratched to hell by Jamie and he felt like he'd been bruised to hell by Adam who had barrelled into him and tried to wrestle Jamie free.

All because Jamie had been told a story by Jarvis and then hadn't known what he'd 'learned'.

Clint was in a worse state. He'd actually had to restrain Adam which was harder than it had seemed at first. Bruce had gone down to the cells and was currently thumping the hell out of the huge Hulk proof room.

He'd been at it for two hours so was probably due to run out of steam any second now.

Tugging Jamie even closer to him, Tony couldn't help but press a kiss into the messy hair. The sheer terror on the six year old's face as he'd realised that he couldn't answer Clint's careless question about the story he'd been told had been horrifying. Even as they'd reached for him, the kid must have thought they were gonna punish him.

Adam's steel blue eyes turned on him, glancing again at Jamie as Clint scrubbed a hand over his face.

"He's fine," Tony promised. "Want to see?"

The kid sat there, completely still for at least two minutes before he glanced at Clint. To his credit, the man sat back a little and showed no indication of moving. Adam slowly slid off the sofa and then walked over, making absolutely no noise as he peered down at Jamie's face.

"What would they do?"

Adam glanced up and then swallowed. Tony could practically see the war that was going on in his head.

"It wouldn't be training," Adam said suddenly, his voice tiny. "It'd just be…he wouldn't have a chance."

Tony stroked his hand over Jamie's smooth cheek. "And then the doctors?"

Adam nodded, eyes filling and Tony wrapped a hand around the kid's neck to pull him close.

"Never again," he promised. "They're not getting past us. And I'm Iron Man and he's freakish with a bow and arrow," he said indicating Clint. "And there's Bruce who believe me is even more of a deterrent. And Captain America will come back one day so, yeah. No-one is getting through."

Adam chewed at his lip.

Then, like a miracle, knelt on the sofa next to him and leaned in close.

It was like being faced with a baby…animal creature (Tony didn't know, he didn't do animals) and not moving because he might spook it. That was definitely a thing. And Adam was like that because Tony was so sure one wrong move would scare him away and that would be the end of this thing that might actually be called a hug.

But he dared to tilt his head and rest his head on top of Adam's head, the blond hair tickling his skin. He was pretty surprised when he heard quiet little snores almost five minutes later, but maybe he shouldn't have been.

Slowly, he eased himself so that one arm was around Adam and Jamie was still curled up against the crook of his arm that rested on the arm of the sofa.

"Looking good, daddy Stark," Clint said after a while. He'd sprawled out on the sofa and looked exhausted.

"Really? Because I feel like I'm as old as Steve." Tony shifted a little bit. "Kid packs a punch, right?"

"Oh, yep." Clint winced. "That super serum is a thing of beauty. And so glad that small fry doesn't have it too." He looked beyond Tony. "You okay?"

Bruce came into view and sunk down next to Clint, the sweats and tee from downstairs hanging off him. "That was not fun," he said, leaning into the sofa. "How could anyone hurt them?" he asked, but thankfully sounding more exhausted than raging this time.

"Hydra. Dicks. Kill." Clint had closed his eyes and had tilted his head up to the ceiling.

"Yeah and before we do that could someone pass me a whiskey from the bar and hold it for me. Straw too, yeah?"

Both Clint and Bruce glared at him.

"See these traumatised small children? They've suffered so much and I'm so thirsty."

Bruce rolled his eyes but stood and made his way to the bar.

"Beer," Clint asked, placing his order.

Bruce paused but then nodded and continued, pouring out their drinks. Poor guy was always determined to remain teetotal and that was a bit cruel for him, but oh well, he'd been able to blow off steam earlier.

Bruce hesitated when he came back and then put the glass on the arm of the chair and aimed the straw at Tony's mouth. Grinning, Tony angled his head and took a long sip.

Yeah, that was the stuff.

"So we should have a list," Tony decided. "Things that spark the baby avengers off. No lessons."

Bruce snorted. "You want to raise stupid children?"

Oh, yeah. "We don't use the word lessons?"

"No list," Clint said. "We start doing that and they'll become triggers. We just gotta power through."

"This isn't like having sex and sobering up part way through to realise you made a poor choice." Tony shook his head and then smiled when Bruce winced at the idea. "Come on, we've all been there, right?"

"Bearded lady," Clint said with a frank nod and they were so coming back to that story one day.

"Yeah, no, elaborate," Tony ordered because who was he kidding? He couldn't wait for one single day.

Clint just smiled. "So we just continue on."

"No, seriously, elaborate."

Bruce sniggered into his…water? Oh, come on.

Jamie made an annoyed sound as Tony's chest rumbled and he glanced down feeling that weird tight feeling in his chest. His head rested on Adam's hair still and he studied Jamie's face.

"You should look into drawing up papers," Bruce said softly. "I know that no-one's really gonna come for them but it'd be one less headache if everything was legal and above board."

Mmm. "That means putting my name to it."

Clint threw him a pained glance. "Yeah, that will make a world of difference."

Maybe not. He could kind of admit that. But it was a promise and declaration and he wasn't exactly good at those things. Ask Pepper.

"I'll do it if you tell me about the bearded lady."

"See the thing is, Stark, I know how you negotiate. I looked at your files with Natasha when she-"

"Stalked me? Lied to me? Spied on me for a secret organisation that was filled with people that were trying to create mini super soldiers?"

"Yeah," Clint said easily. "And I know not to give in until you've put pen to paper. So. Until you do, you can suck on it."

"Mature, Barton. So mature."

Xxx

**J F K Airport, New York (Steve)**

They'd snuck off and out of the airport with relative ease. Strangely, no-one seemed to be looking for them and maybe people had actually been taken in by the disguise of sunglasses and a baseball cap.

Didn't seem likely, but maybe the universe had given them a break.

They'd 'borrowed' a car and started driving. And it had been automatic and not his best plan, he could admit that, but then he'd driven and kept driving until he pulled up outside the school.

"Do I want to know why we're here?" Sam asked.

"Sam…" Steve hesitated, not really sure how to say what he wanted to say, but thankfully, Sam seemed to catch on and rolled his eyes before slamming out of the car.

"So," he said leaning in through the window. "Twenty minutes?"

"Half an hour."

"In Brooklyn?" Sam asked doubtfully.

"You could always try running," Steve suggested, smiling sweetly. Sam glared at him and then pushed his sunglasses up his nose. "You're a troll, Rogers," he said as he strode off.

And then it was just the two of them in the car and Steve took a deep breath before glancing back.

Bucky was staring at the high school. "It's different," he said, sounding sad.

"Yeah," Steve agreed. He unbuckled his seat belt and turned properly to face Bucky. "I don't know where to start."

Bucky said nothing, his steel blue eyes still tracking the high school before he looked away and then at Steve. "He might need to be longer than half an hour," he drawled.

"I should have looked," Steve admitted. "I just…you fell and I…" he frowned and shook his head, trying to shake the image from his mind. Bucky's arms manically spiralling as if trying to find something to hold on to, the scream and it might have been his or Bucky's. The snow swallowing up everything and the train racing him on and further away-

"I don't remember," Bucky murmured. "I remember inside the train. I remember…I used your shield. And then…"

"You were blasted out of the train. You'd blocked a weapon firing on me and it knocked you outside. I reached for you but…the part you were holding onto broke and I didn't reach in time." Steve kept his gaze on Bucky, refused to look away because that would be the cowardly way. "The tracks were-"

"That I remember," Bucky said. "Just….a glimpse of standing at the top of the mountain with you and a zip line. I made a joke?"

"You asked me if I was getting you back for Coney Island."

That didn't seem to register.

"I should have looked."

Bucky glanced at him, brow furrowing, then he closed his eyes. "I remember that drop," he said. "I remember looking at it and thinking neither of us would survive if we missed. Why would I expect you to think differently?"

Steve sat silently.

"And they might have caught you," Bucky added, looking away again.

"We'd have been together."

"Don't be naïve," Bucky snapped, eyes trained on something outside of the car. When Steve looked it was a group of kids laughing and jostling each other. "They'd have had you kill me. Or the other way round if you hadn't responded."

"Well, we won't know."

Bucky actually rolled his eyes. "Don't be stubborn, Steve." Then seemed to weigh the words up and snorted. "At least try not to be."

"I am sorry though."

"Leave it alone." Bucky seemed to have no interest in the topic. "Would you have wanted me on the plane?"

"No."

"Then leave it alone."

Right. Steve watched the teenagers too, not really sure what to say about them. The kids were playing with their phones, had headphones dangling out their ear and seemed to be multitasking about ten things at once. "You remember being that age?"

"I remember you getting us into fights."

Hmm. "I don't remember that," Steve tried, lightening his tone. "I remember rescuing people."

Bucky actually groaned and rested his head against the headrest. "We got into fights," he corrected. "You started them, I finished them."

"No," Steve disagreed. "I finished that one with Tommy Fisher."

"I don't remember that." Bucky sounded genuinely disappointed. "You sure it happened-"

"It happened," Steve cut him off. When he glanced back, Bucky was almost smiling.

"It's nice here," he said, shifting and looking so very vulnerable almost curled up on the back seat. "Almost…"

"Yeah," Steve agreed. "Almost." And, until Stark developed a time machine, probably the closest they'd ever get to being back home.


	5. Chapter 5

**Avengers' Tower, New York (Tony)**

So, Pepper was in the building.

Jamie was on the sofa, staring at him over the rim of the cup of OJ that Pepper had poured him and there was a look in his eyes like he was tempted to battle for his right to drink it.

"But…Juice? We have juice? That might be Bruce's drink. He could Hulk out so you should…you know. Give me the information that you need to and then-" Pepper stared at him and okay, yeah, so this was his fault.

It hadn't started in a way that was meant to cause problems…only, yeah, so he'd been trying to prove a point and the point had been that he wasn't running a child zoo.

And to prove that point he might have taken the boys out for ice cream (and realised half way through that Jamie needed a leash because he thought they needed to explore every single block while Adam needed a shake down before he left because the knives from the kitchen were secreted away in his clothes). And he might have been photographed. And there might be interest about it on the internet. And the board might be having their quarterly flap over his not so sane actions.

But Jamie had discovered rainbow sherbet while Adam had discovered chocolate fudge sauce so…yeah.

"This is going to be boring, isn't it?" Tony sighed as he dumped himself in the chair next to Jamie who was still sipping the orange juice slowly but with that same wary look.

It was the look that Adam gave his knives.

Jesus, he was so bad at this gig.

"I'm helping you keep custody-" Pepper began.

"I have an army of lawyers and I'm pretty sure I have what amounts to an army anyway. I mean, half of them are scattered across the world and one isn't on planet which reminds me, did you ask if there was a way to contact Thor? I mean, if a god says I should keep the kids then I think that might go some way to helping the cause."

"What's a thor?" Jamie piped up, finally detaching his mouth from the glass.

"A friend of Tony's," Pepper answered and then, even as he opened his mouth to protest, Pepper glared at him. "He is, don't confuse him with your unique definitions of personal relationships."

His 'unique definition of personal relationships'? Seriously? "I'm sorry, are we going there?" he asked and felt a moment of triumph as she winced. "I thought we agreed not to go there. Especially in front of the children-"

"That's a plural," Jamie chimed in.

Three of them in the room and he could so see what Pepper was gonna think. She was already smiling, amused and he was not acting like a child so she could whistle with that one.

"I can't get hold of Jane Foster," Pepper said, and seemed to almost hold back the smile. "And I've never met Thor so I'm not sure how you think I can help you there, but I really would suggest doing a talk show-"

Noooo. He hated talk shows about personal things. He'd say something cool and witty and then someone would find it later and yell at him and he couldn't see the future, how would he know what would cause problems later on? Thudding his head against the back of the chair, Tony let lose a long groan.

"People want answers, Tony, and the more we delay telling them, the more sensational this is getting. One message says they think you've made clones," Pepper pointed out and she seemed a little too interested in that topic.

Clones? "Adam's blond and both have completely different coloured eyes to me. How is that a clone? Just post a link to wikipedia's definition of cloning…wait…" he sat up. "Edit wikipedia's page and make sure it's correct and then send them that way."

"It's in their best interest."

"You know I'm getting sick of hearing that," Tony said, standing suddenly. "Why do people think I need to be told what's in their best interest, huh? I took them out of the lab all on my own-"

"Natasha helped," Pepper argued patiently

"And left," Tony replied because god had that afternoon completely alone been one of the scariest of his life and he'd been waterboarded in Afghanistan. "I've been here with them, I've sat there and listened to nightmares and watched them stare with awe at food that they should take for granted. Debated whether or not to have a table in the room because they only know of one use for that and believe me, Pepper, they still ask when the straps are coming. I don't need to be told what is in their best interest-"

"You do," Pepper argued. "In this Tony, in public relations. You've always created a story, you have no idea how to bury it."

That was such crap! "Name one time when-"

"I can," Pepper said standing too. "When you announced you were Iron Man-"

Shit. So, bad move. "I didn't want to lie-"

"When you went to the senate to defend your property-"

Damn it, there was a list. "It was my property-"

"When you invited a terrorist to take aim at your house and gave him the address."

He'd said one. "That worked out-""

"When you announced you were retiring and then, without telling me, suddenly swooped back in as Iron Man."

Yeah and that. Of course she was going to use that. "There were…" he sounded like he was stalling for time"…circumstances. Big complicated ones and people needed help-" and there had been and he really had meant to take a step back.

"A phone call," Pepper said firmly and he could see the hurt in her face but that would mean backing down and admitting…hell no, he hadn't been wrong but okay, he could admit he might be a handful.

"I gave you one," he tried, knowing that he was losing.

"After," she said and now the hurt was in her voice.

"I…" he folded his arms. "I know."

"Were you even serious?"

No? Maybe? "I nearly lost you," he said and he didn't even know what point that was meant to make, but he'd wanted to make sure it never happened again and then had succeeded in making it happen in a different way.

"Well, I'm so glad you went out of your way to make it properly happen."

They were close now and dimly he knew that Jamie had scampered off somewhere and he was relatively sure that didn't mean he'd decided to pick a spot to try and assassinate Pepper because the kid was like a stray cat – feed him and he'd be your pal for life.

"You're glad?"

"Not what I meant," she argued.

"No? Then what did you mean? Clear it up for me."

"I…you…you are impossible."

"Oh yeah, sterling argument that. Let me call up the philosophy department, tell them we have a new way of winning a debate."

"Don't do that," she snapped back at him. "Don't-"

So he kissed her. Or she kissed him. It was their best way of stopping an argument when they grew too frustrated to keep it going and usually (like eight out of ten times) it led to sex that was out of this world.

But this time the kiss slowed until they leaned their foreheads against each other and shared air.

"I love you," he whispered because he did. Always would probably.

She smiled weakly at it and nodded, eyes soft and that was it. He could stop this moment, pause it and then-

"That doesn't change anything," she said softly. "I can't…" she pulled away a little and her eyes were damp and he wasn't meant to make her cry. "I can't…you were meant to be honest with me and trust me."

"I do." Of course he did. "I just…I saw the news and-" and no-one had been there to help when pissed off Hydra operatives had stormed a school just because they could and then Clint had needed a hand with tracking down some black ops guy that had pissed him off and then-

And then and then.

"One phone call, Tony," she said.

And yeah. Still. Couldn't let her see that he accepted that. "The last time I called when I was in a battle you didn't pick up."

"And another thing, you said all the suits were gone. I know you, Tony, not even you can build a suit in-"

There was a long, pointed sigh and when Tony turned to it, Jamie had reclaimed his seat and was staring moodily up at them.

"When did you come back?" Tony heard himself ask. And seriously? He did not need another person in the tower who could sneak up on him.

"When you were kissing," Jamie said and his nose turned up as if in disgust.

Pepper however, looked horrified. "We weren't…no…see…we just-"

"Yeah, no, that didn't happen-"

Jamie stared at them. "I want to see the end," he whined.

The end?! Seriously? The kid was six. How did he know what the end of kissing usually looked like?

Pepper closed her eyes. "The movie, Tony. He's talking about the screen."

"Yeah," Tony said softly as he folded his arms. "Okay, fine. Let's get kicked out of my penthouse by the five year old who wants to watch Madagascar on my screen. How has this become my life?"

"I…"Pepper sighed. "Do the talk shows," she said stepping away from him and picking up her stuff.

"One."

"And get Steve back here," Pepper added. "If you had Captain America in the tower then perhaps people wouldn't be quite so worried at the fact the boys are being raised by a spy slash assassin, a doctor who can turn into an unpredictable creature and-"

Tony shifted and folded his arms. "And?"

"You," Pepper said, losing some speed. "Unreliable," she said.

Right. Unreliable. Not boyfriend material or husband material or CEO material or probably Dad material.

Thing was, the kid didn't seem to agree because there was a sudden warmth against his leg and, when he looked down, Jamie was glaring at Pepper with a sulky little frown that probably meant he was angry.

"And buy them some fruit," Pepper added.

Right.

It was only when she left that he felt himself relent (and possibly he was distracted by Jamie suddenly declaring that he wasn't allowed to sit on his own goddamned sofa).

"Personally, I always thought you'd make an amazing father," she whispered in his ear as he sat, finally, with the temperamental brat that was about to become his.

She was the first person who'd said anything close to that and, stunned, he watched her walk away this time.

"I can still kill her if you want," Jamie offered a few seconds later. "Even if she did give me the nice drink."

It shouldn't have warmed his heart, but it did. Relaxing back into the chair, he stroked a hand over Jamie's hair. "No," he said and didn't add a joke because he was pretty sure Jamie would twist it into his weird Jamie logic. "It's good. She's helping me keep you forever."

"Forever's ages," Jamie said, but he sounded pleased.

"That's the plan."

**Brooklyn, New York (Steve)**

They'd been home for three days now (as much as they could recapture it) and had been damned lucky so far.

It was never going to last.

"How many?" Steve asked as he drove their new 'borrowed car' through the streets.

"Too many," Bucky hissed, hand pressed into his side. "Remind me why you sent Sam away?"

"I sent him to find Tony or Nat," Steve snapped as he swerved around a corner and then frowned at the amount of traffic he could see. "I didn't have a crystal ball."

In the rear mirror, Steve could see Bucky pulling an Intratec TEC-38 from seemingly no-where. "We are not having a shootout in Brooklyn," Steve snapped.

"You may not have a choice," Bucky said and then frowned at him. "Do you seriously not have anything?"

"The shield."

Bucky stared at him and then muttered something Russian under his breath. It was probably a good thing that the only words Steve could say in Russian were hello, thank you and don't shoot.

"Move," Bucky suddenly ordered, leaning as if he were going to try and sit in the driver's seat.

"No."

"Steve, move. You suck at driving."

Why was this the time that he sounded most like the old Bucky? "I don't suck at driving. I drove us in occupied Europe."

"You sucked then too." Bucky leaned forward. "Take the sidewalk."

"There are people-"

"They'll move. Take the sidewalk or else we will be in a shoot-out and I will use my arm and I don't care where the bullets rebound."

A glance in the wing mirrors showed that maybe they didn't have much of a choice because there were definitely people getting out of an armoured vehicle. Hissing in frustration, Steve twisted the steering wheel and aimed them at the side walk.

"You gonna move?" Bucky asked as they mounted the sidewalk.

"You gonna shut up?"

Xxxx

**Avengers' Tower, New York (Tony)**

"Sir?"

Tony looked up from his the suit he was working on that may or may not be the start of a mini army designed to protect the boys just in case.

"Working."

"Sam Wilson is at reception."

Wilson? Wilson? Hmm, he felt like he should probably know that name. "Remind me?"

"He helped Captain Rogers dismantle SHIELD."

Oh, that Wilson. "Wait, he left with Steve. Is Steve with him? Does he know where Steve is?"

"He's in the lobby. Unless you would like me to take a voice recording?"

There was a possibility that he'd put too much snark into Jarvis' programing. Just a possibility. "Yeah, okay," Tony said, putting down the gauntlet. "Send him up to…" oh hell, where was the barrier for the kids? "Like floor ten?"

"The entertainment floor?"

"Yeah," that'll do. "Who doesn't love a home cinema?"

He phoned up to Clint as he went down to meet Wilson. "So, how are the boys?"

"Uh…okay so, they had a fight."

"What? Sorry? Did you just say that they had a fight?"

"Jamie threw a poptart at Adam."

Tony stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose before pressing the elevator closed. "Wow, that must have been traumatic-"

"Then Jamie threw a punch and so Adam hit him and then they leapt at each other-"

Wilson had the worst damned timing in the world. "They're still alive, right?"

"Jamie is currently sulking in his room," Clint said, sounding baffled. "Adam is pacing. Looks like an old man recounting war stories."

Tony didn't even want to imagine that one. "Wilson's here," he said. "I'll have a quick talk and then come back up."

"You'd fucking better."

The elevator opened and there was what Tony knew to be Wilson because he may have stalked the fall of SHIELD a little bit. "So," he said, stepped out. "You here to be part of the super duper cool club?"

Wilson blinked at him and then formed an almost grin. "Not entirely sure how this is now my life," he said, holding out a hand and okay, they could do this. Shaking his hand, Tony decided not to resist the urge to smile back in amusement.

"Steve's in Brooklyn with Barnes," Wilson said and points for not beating around that bush.

"Brooklyn?" Tony dropped his hand and the urge to do something melodramatic was really strong. "We're hunting down leads across Europe and Icecap is in Brooklyn? Of course he is. Has he been looking up old dates too? Maybe paying off overdue book fees?"

"Yeah," Wilson said, drawing out the word. "We're pretty sure that Hydra know where we are so I'm not sure how much time we have."

"Sir," Jarvis interrupted. "There are reports of a fire fight in Brooklyn."

Wilson, to his credit, said nothing but looked very concerned.

How was this happening? Of course it was Steve! Mr 'Gee, golly mister, am I in the wrong place?' could find a fight in a church. And schedule it at the most inconvenient moment.

Why did people think he was such a paragon of virtue again?

"You still have those wings, right?"

Wilson nodded.

"We're doing this so quickly," Tony said, waving a finger in his face. "I have a poptart battle to sort out so we are not dillydallying. Clear?"

"Not even a little bit," Wilson said, and there a look on his face that suggested he might be considering kicking Tony's ass, or at least trying to.

"Clint," Tony snapped as he walked. "You need to suit up and-"

Oh god.

He froze.

What the hell were they meant to do with the kids?

"There's a helicopter," Clint said, his voice being fed through the systems by Jarvis and echoing in the elevator as it closed. "All occupants are suited and booted."

They were attacking the tower?

They were going to attack the tower so they couldn't give Steve any support. As plans went, it was sound but seriously, couldn't they just give them a ten minutes heads up? Or an hour.

Or a year?

"You need to put them somewhere safe."

Clint's huff was audible. "Yeah," he said, sounding not so happy and did he think that Tony felt any differently? "I'll figure it out."

"No, you'll tell me because I need to monitor if anyone goes-"

"Training wall. There's a nest."

It wasn't perfect, but it was better than most places.

"What's going on?" Wilson asked as they stepped out and Tony broke off.

"Rogers is a moron, that's what's going on," Tony snapped.

Xxx

The inhabitants of New York were not gonna be impressed with them. Nor were the staff working in the tower.

He'd send them all Steve's way. Every last complaint and email, Steve could filter them and go on talk shows and smile in in his obnoxious, Mr Perfect manner. Or they could have Barnes assassinate anyone that complained.

Hell, maybe Barnes could take out Steve and that would be all their problems answered.

They turned up in the oldest, shittiest car imaginable that had definitely been shot to hell as Bruce picked off the last few idiots that had tried to attack five sixths of the Avengers because of course Natasha had turned up out of nowhere at the eleventh hour.

"Tony," Steve started to say.

"Nope. Unless the next words out of your mouth are 'I'm insured', I don't want to hear it." And there, far away and standing among his own pile of bodies, was what Tony assumed to be an amnesiac assassin that had once gone by the name Sergeant Barnes.

Steve raised an eyebrow, of course he did. "You're concerned about money?" he asked with that vaguely scolding tone. He kept an eye on Barnes because Steve was a colossal idiot and it could all so easily be a trick.

"Do I look like a bottomless bank to you? Also, I have employees. They could be traumatised. I am getting so sick of paying for therapists."

It was so easy to get him mad. "Your life must be so hard," Steve snapped.

"Don't push it," Tony said, waving a finger in Steve's face and so, so tempted to fire the repulsors at him just to get him to shut up and stop looking like he was in some war film giving a speech about truth, honour, justice, and being an annoying dick. "You've been in Brooklyn. Not Europe. Did it even occur to you to keep us updated about where you were?"

"I've had things to do," Steve yelled, not backing down.

"Like the rest of us haven't? While you've been off honeymooning with your old pal-"

Steve's eyes shadowed and there was a flicker of panic.

Oh.

OH!

"Seriously? You've been-"

Steve punched him which would have hurt like a bitch had he been out of the suit but, as it was, just made his ears ring a little with the sound.

"My tower." Tony said, turning away. "Go fuck yourself, Rogers."

Xxx

"That went well," Sam said as Stark flew off.

He didn't need to hear it. Scraping a hand through his hair, Steve tried to reign in his temper, pressing his lips together. He turned, casting his gaze over Bucky.

He was gonna have to swallow it back because the tower was the only place where they could stay without casting a look over their shoulder every five seconds.

But Stark knew. Apparently, all he needed was to take one look at Steve with Bucky and know.

It was terrifying and humiliating. Was it that obvious? He and Bucky had never talked about it so…what if Bucky had known?

Something burned within him.

Bucky turned towards him and it was almost like being back on the bridge again, the angry eyes and searching gaze.

Almost snarling with the helpless feeling welling up, Steve turned and stormed up the steps and into the building. Without saying a word to the frightened staff that were starting to come out from behind the furniture, he stomped to the elevator and tried to control his temper to ensure he didn't punch out the control panel.

"Jarvis?" he asked as the doors closed. "Where's Stark?"

"Twentieth floor. The training level."

Training level? He'd been half sure Stark would be straight in the workshop, or even by a bar if he were being less charitable.

Instead, the elevator opened on a floor he'd never been to. Hadn't even known existed and he could feel some of his anger fade away at the idea that he might have a chance to exercise in this place. There were mats and what might be a weapons chamber and then, beyond, where Stark was hovering, the helmet off was a climbing wall.

He stomped over. "Stark," he called. "You can't deny-"he blinked as he saw a kid in Stark's arms, "him sanctuary," he finished, feeling his righteous anger fade away.

A kid?

What the hell was going on?

The Iron Man suit didn't even turn to him. "Any hints about why this moment might not be the one to continue that argument?" He dropped closer to the floor, and it seemed as if the kid had been in the nest in the climbing wall.

"You have a kid?" he asked, baffled.

Stark had a kid?

"How have you missed this?" Stark asked, expression genuinely seeming baffled as Steve stared at the blond haired child in his arms. "It's been plastered everywhere. Only you could manage to completely bypass major events. Did you find another piece of ice to nap in?"

Stark had a child. A child that looked to be around ten years old and whose eyes were shadowed.

"Congratulations," he said because he didn't know what else to say. "And, I can assure you, Bucky will go no-where near your son."

"You're damn right he won't because he isn't staying here."

He had to stay. Otherwise the paranoia was going to eat them alive. "He needs protection, Stark. This is the only place where I can safely continue to get his memories back-"

Stark let the child drop to the floor and then shifted as if Steve was going to attack or take the boy from him. "You want to protect a ninety odd year old brainwashed assassin who is so scary that they use him as a bogey man to baby assassins and I want to protect two innocent and terrified kids. Think I win. Oh, and it's my tower so I win times a million."

"Kids?" Steve looked around, baffled. How had he missed this? Did Stark have a family? He'd known about Ms Potts but he hadn't thought…what the hell had been happening? "Where's-"

It seemed to be the final straw for Stark. "In there," he yelled as if he'd finally lost his temper. "And I haven't been able to check on him yet because you keep whining about the fact that I won't let you have your friend over to play."

And that was what he was doing, wasn't it? Keeping two innocent children afraid because he was fighting for Bucky?

He wasn't even sure that he particularly cared except…he stared at the blond boy who was definitely on the verge of having a panic attack.

Jesus.

And, up there, was another kid that was Stark's and he wasn't making things easier. And there was a little face in the shadows, even younger, Steve thought.

What was he doing?

The anger faded away and Steve backed away, sitting down on the spectator's bench and detaching the shield.

The things he was willing to do for Bucky scared him sometimes. And, even now, if he were being honest, part of him was sitting down so that he might later have a better chance at persuading Stark to let Bucky stay.

Silently, he watched Stark leave the blond boy and then fly up to the nest again and lean in, talking in quiet tones to the child still up there.

The elevator went again and this time Clint stepped out, bow and arrow strapped to his back. He met Steve's eyes, nodded, but didn't stop until he got to the kid and pulled him into a long hug.

Steve watched, not sure what to make of it and half way sure he was too tired to work it out. Perhaps he should use the phone that Stark had given him to search for things.

"Come on Jim-Jam," Stark said in a loud, fake tone which drew Steve's attention away from Clint's strange interactions with Stark's son. "I'll give you pizza. As much as you can eat," he added and clearly was attempting a bribe.

Nothing seemed to be happening and Stark didn't seem pleased as he swore. Clint kept a hand on the boy's head and was looking up with a frown. They both watched as Stark seemed to half crawl into the hole on the climbing wall.

It took a few minutes but suddenly a small child was climbing into Stark's arms with a frantic air to him and Stark was holding him tight, even Steve could see that at this distance. The child was muttering against him and Steve watched the way Stark curled around him.

They landed and the child, who was definitely far younger than the other one, looked up at Clint who still held the blond child but looked concerned-

The angle shifted and Steve barely was able to breathe because he knew that face, he knew those eyes. He'd drawn that face once, as a half-hearted wondering.

He didn't know how, couldn't even imagine it, but somehow, the boy in Stark's arms was Bucky's son.

Had to be.

And didn't that make life a thousand times harder?


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky had gone into the cells below without much hassle or even showing that much interest in what was happening. Any other time, Steve would have been tripping over himself to apologise, but the cell was something he could have broken out of and Bucky had cast a look around and then shrugged.

And he must have picked up on the fact that Steve was half sure that the universe had been rocked because Bucky kept trying to catch his eye and no matter how many times Steve tried to give him a reassuring smile, it didn't appear to work.

The others were upstairs with the boys. Clint and Bruce with one, Tony with the other. Natasha had put the files on the table and watched him closely.

"What do you think you know?" she asked as she sat on the arm of the chair opposite and nodded at Sam who looked as baffled as anyone else.

He reached for the top folder. J3. Jesus. His fingers skimmed the photograph and the familiar features of the boy's face. Underneath it was the other child. A1 and…

Same features. A little less obvious but the more he looked, the more he could see Bucky in the nose, the chin.

The eyes.

They all had the same eyes.

He looked up at Natasha who probably knew more than she was letting on. Instead, he switched his gaze to Sam and gestured at him. "Can I have your phone?"

Looking curious, Sam passed it over with ease and then took it back when Steve realised he had no idea how to unlock the damn thing. Natasha said nothing and he couldn't imagine the look that he would have received if he'd asked for her phone. One wrong touch and he could have set off guns across the world.

It wasn't second nature to search google. He didn't reach for a phone like everyone else did because in his time people had known the information and if they didn't know it then they didn't know it. But he could get on board with using it like a filing cabinet.

Or a photograph album.

"Here," he said, finding the old picture. The benefits of a museum, he thought. The only picture of him and Bucky as children, taken at school.

When he handed it back, he watched Sam's face.

There was a moment of confusion and then acceptance when Nat reached out and angled the screen so she could see. Her expression remained perfectly blank, but Sam blinked and then picked up J3's folder and looked between the two.

"Hydra base?" Steve asked, feeling utterly exhausted.

Natasha closed her eyes briefly. "There were three," she said and slid another folder across.

Were?

Steve stared at the third folder, feeling a sudden horrified weight upon his chest. "When?" he asked, half convinced that if he didn't touch it then it wouldn't exist.

"Three years ago."

He'd been out of the ice then. Just, but out. Reaching out, he slowly picked up the file feeling sick.

The picture was of a kid that seemed to be three years old. He had…he'd had Bucky's colouring too and his scowl. Without a word, he opened it up and swallowed because he hadn't been sure what he'd expected but of course it would be filled with numbers and graphs. Charts and letters that made up some chemical compounds.

"We've found the bodies of thirteen children in total," Natasha said softly.

"His body too?" Steve asked as he flipped through the pages, desperately looking for something that might reveal the boy to him. What he'd liked to eat or play with.

Hydra wouldn't have cared. Wouldn't have given him options. He knew that, knew that he wouldn't find anything on these pages, and yet he couldn't stop looking.

Natasha shifted. "Yes."

He looked up at her and searched her face. She was visibly…disturbed.

It was stupid, but he felt his fingers tighten, as if he could protect the long dead child that he'd failed.

"Not tonight," Natasha said, reaching out a hand for the file. "But…I said I'd be honest with you."

Yeah.

Sam was staring at the file and then shook himself with Natasha put it to one side. "Just when you thought they couldn't get any worse," he said, and his voice shook just a little.

Steve could hardly blame him.

"Gave them letters and numbers," Sam added suddenly and stood up, striding to the window. He'd jammed his hands into his pockets and his adam's apple bobbed.

"Adam and Jamie," Natasha said into the silence. "Stark."

His mind hadn't even got there. "Stark's adopting them?"

"Got the paper work," Stark said, walking in and standing behind Natasha with his arms folded. He'd gotten rid of the suit and was now just wearing an old tee and jeans. "Talk."

"Barnes is the biological father," Natasha said.

It was such a cold definition.

"We sure about that?" Stark asked and then blinked when she lifted the phone to his face. He glanced at it and then shrugged in a manner that even Steve could tell was staged. "So?"

"We can test the DNA," Natasha offered. "But it makes sense. We said that there were six strands in the batches. Why wouldn't they use Barnes?"

Six strands? "Have you tested-"

"No matches," Stark said and there was a momentary sympathy in his eyes.

"Fury was very territorial about any tests that were done on you," Natasha added.

Thank god. "And none of the rest of us?"

"No matches," Stark said and he finally seemed to relent and collapse on the spare chair.

"So who were the other five?" Steve asked.

"That's one question we'll have to deal with," Natasha said, as she stood and poured a glass of water from a jug because that was how rich Stark was; he had ice water jugs just hanging around. "One of many," she added as she handed the glass to Sam.

It was a lot of information to take in. Steve stared at the files again, trying to coincide what he knew and this new life that suddenly existed where Bucky was a father three times over and had already lost a child before meeting him.

"They aren't meeting him."

At first, Stark's words didn't quite register or make sense. "He's their father," Steve said after gaping at Stark.

"No," Stark said, sitting forward. "He's a ruthless killer who," he said when Steve opened his mouth, "has killed people for seventy years and yeah, so there was brain washing and torture. Not denying that. But maybe letting him near the small, traumatised children who still think that they might have to kill people to survive isn't the best idea." By the end, Stark's voice had risen to dangerous levels.

He'd been ready to argue, so ready. He'd drawn in breath, felt the steel control inside of him begin to collapse but the last few words stole his words and made him falter, staring down at the folders feeling so completely and utterly…

Helpless.

He'd never imagined he'd feel like this again. Not since the serum.

Instead, he picked up A1…Adam's? folder. He didn't look up but he knew that the others were watching him.

The folder was different. He couldn't really explain why but there was something…

"He wasn't made in the lab."

Natasha's voice made him glance up. He glanced over at Sam who was watching him sadly. "What?" Steve asked, surprised by how hoarse his voice sounded.

Stark made a strange noise and stood, walking over to the bar to pour himself a drink. He kept his back to them.

"They had him in a frozen state. Probably the cryo stasis. The tests were all run afterwards. It's the same for all the A batch. Different DNA but none of them were created in the lab."

A1.

He'd been the first.

It changed things. Steve wasn't sure why or how, but it did. A child that Bucky had probably naturally created.

It was different.

His finger stroked the side of A…Adam's face in the photo.

Xxx

Tony stood at the door of his own bedroom and stared.

In his huge bed (seriously, it was awesomely massive and the one thing that he'd doggedly held onto since his playboy days) was Jamie. The boy was curled up around a pillow, one hand by his mouth and the other one clutching his hair. He looked snuggled and cosy.

And he was seven now.

That had been…yeah. So he did numbers. He'd known how old Jamie was when he'd found him. And Adam. And yet…well, most normal kids were usually screaming about their birthdays (he thought; films showed it that way) so he'd thought that-

He was actually stupid.

Leaving, he went to check in on Adam. Again. Inside the room that was usually more calm than Jamie's and looked now like a bomb had hit it. The panic attack that Adam had given into after the first hour had wrecked the room. The kid was now curled up into a tight little ball, clearly exhausted. On the floor beside him, Clint sat, keeping watch. He met Tony's eyes and then shook his head.

It had taken forever to get the kid to sleep. And yet, somehow, walking away from that room felt a little bit like letting him go. Especially considering Roger's face when he'd learned that Adam had probably been created via natural humping means.

Weird. It was impossible to work out how he felt about anything that they'd talked about. Anger that Adam might be taken and that Barnes might not want Jamie. Terror that the fossils might try to take both.

How could he care this much after so little time?

He went back to his room, heading straight for the shower this time. It took less than ten minutes, yet he still found himself double checking that Jamie was still in the bed, asleep and safe.

He didn't get in with the boy. Instead, he curled around him on top of the covers and pressed a kiss to his messy hair, smiling as the boy shifted a little, turning into him and snuggling in.

Someone might take this from him and, one day, he'd be nothing but a half memory.

Biting his lip, he held Jamie closer.

No-one was taking the kid.

Not even Captain America.

Xxx

Steve was almost sure that going down to see Bucky at the moment was stupid. But how could he not?

Bucky's eyes tracked him the moment he stepped onto the floor. He still didn't seem too concerned about the cell; after what Steve had seen of the Hydra bases and some of their hotels, it probably seemed like paradise.

He dragged a chair over so that he could sit in front of the cell and then sunk into it, exhausted.

"They ain't gonna let me stay, are they?" Bucky said after a moment.

"It's not that," Steve said and then shifted as he looked up.

He couldn't lie but he wasn't entirely sure that Bucky was ready for the information.

"Steve?"

That tone. It made instant images of being young and happy and free from responsibility ring in his ears and he desperately longed to just hide in the past for a day or two. Needing a moment or two, he bent his head over his knees and ran his hands through his hair.

Seventy odd years ago, Bucky would have hounded him until even Steve had given in. Now, he was silent, a waiting, lurking presence.

How did he even start this?

Slowly, he looked up and steepled his hands under his chin. In the cell, Bucky's shadowed eyes continued to watch him, completely focused as if he was about to take a shot.

"I…" he swallowed with the nerves. "There are two children upstairs who are yours."

Bucky's face turned carefully blank and it was impossible to know what was happening in his head. One moment he was completely focused on Steve and the next he was completely distant.

It was impossible to know how long they sat there. The high up slit windows started to lighten as the night faded away before Bucky shifted and stood, back to Steve as he stared at nothing but the blank wall.

Not really knowing what to do, Steve stood and walked away a little until he stood by the table close to the elevator. Upon it, he stared down at the three folders he'd brought with him earlier and picked them up.

It could be the worst thing to do, but…

He slid the files through the food hatch before he thought about it too much and tucked D4's into the inside of his jacket.

"The eldest is eleven," he said. "A1. They're calling him-"

Bucky spun around, briefly glancing at him before dropping his gaze to the folders. He moved quickly, startlingly quickly after the stillness, and crouched to the folders. He picked up the top one and flicked open to the picture.

If asked, Steve didn't think that he'd ever be able to describe the look on Bucky's face. There was shock, something almost heartbroken and hopeful too. The sight of it clenched his stomach and Steve could do nothing but stare at him.

"You know him," Steve breathed.

"Stefan," Bucky said hoarsely, his hair falling over his face and hiding him from view.

Oh. His breath caught in his throat and he blinked a few times, not entirely sure what to make of that.

"Is he-"

"Safe." Steve cleared his throat and tried again when the word caught in his mouth. "Safe, alive, asleep, I think. They…" he stopped not really sure how much he should say or how much it would overload Bucky. He folded his arms and winced when it slightly creased the folder under his jacket.

Bucky's eyes lifted and then fell to Steve's jacket. Then his eyes closed before he stood, Adam's folder still in his hands.

"You knew," Steve murmured, the shock of it racing through him. "I said A1 and you knew."

It took a while for Bucky to settle down again and face him. "It…It was the eighties," he said, sitting down heavily on the thin bed. "There was a target. I had to protect her but bring her in. There was…" he frowned. "I don't know. A power shift, I suppose. There were a few in Hydra over the years."

Not really sure where he was going, Steve waited.

"It was…I don't know. Comfort or they said to protect her. Never said it since. I went off the grid with her. And…she…I got her pregnant."

Curious now, Steve ran the numbers in his head and that didn't quite work out unless…Steve looked at the folder.

Adam had undergone cryo-freeze.

"They came when he was ten months. I don't remember…" Bucky hadn't looked away from the floor. "I didn't remember when I saw him again at the facility."

There was something more here.

"When?"

But Bucky shut down completely and stood again. "I want to see him," he said suddenly.

Steve nodded and then cleared his throat again. "Okay," he said. And then, when it seemed like the conversation was over, he turned around and left the cells.

It was only when he stepped out of the elevator on the living area that they all used, that he suddenly realised they hadn't once discussed the youngest child.

Xxx

Waking to a small child was…strange. Small children had pointy knees and elbows and snored deceptively loudly. They made your arm numb and meant you couldn't stretch out because, unlike an adult, a kid couldn't exactly take a shove to move.

It had been years since Tony had been forced to sneak away from a bed. It hadn't gotten any easier. He walked across the room and then carefully opened the glass door to walk out onto the balcony.

Beneath him, the entire city was at his feet. Holding onto the railings he tried to steel himself and get himself awake because this was it.

He was gonna battle Captain America in a custody battle. Maybe. Probably. Definitely. Even an awful night's sleep that made him suddenly have a shred of respect for the morons who decided to pop out brats hadn't made him feel any differently about Jamie.

Adam.

Swearing, he walked back in and quickly slid into the hall to find his way to Adam's room.

"Agent Barton is in the communal area," Jarvis' voice said as he wandered down. "Adam is asleep."

And he was. Of course he was; Jarvis didn't lie. Staring down at the kid, Tony ducked down and stroked his hand through the blond hair. The sheets smelt like old sweat and how bad had Adam been last night?

Turning, he walked out and down the steps, down into the communal area.

Steve was sat on the sofa nursing a coffee in his hands and talking quietly with Clint and Natasha. He stopped when he saw Tony and seemed to brace himself.

"Did Adam wake up?" Tony asked Clint, keeping his eyes on Steve.

"No," Clint said. "Not sure how much he'll remember of last night. Jamie okay?"

"Brat's all elbows and knees," Tony said, striding to the counter to pour himself some coffee. "But he seems all right. Fell asleep quick enough."

"You've taken to this," Natasha murmured sounding quietly surprised.

It made Steve look constipated, which was excellent. "Yeah," Tony said, coming back around to perch on the edge of the sofa. "Paperwork's in and everything."

It was a lie. But then he was so rich that he could probably pay to have it processed yesterday which was the closest he could get at the moment to a time machine so, yeah, same thing. And totally worth it to see the look on Steve's face.

"He remembers Adam," Steve said tightly.

No. He wasn't even really sure what he was saying no to, but no. He was half wishing that he'd kept both boys with him last night. In the jet. On its way to the Bahamas.

Time travel. Man, he needed to get on that.

"How?" Tony asked.

"He ran away with Adam's mother."

That was crap. "Oh…the Winter Soldier had a torrid romance and a family hidden away. Wow, that will make a great film. Can we call it 'How fucking gullible are you?'"

"He isn't lying," Steve snapped. "He knew who it was from me saying A1-"

"Jarvis?" Tony snapped.

"He is telling the truth. I have the recording."

Steve blinked in shock and then stood suddenly and Tony steeled himself, mostly sure that he could take it or that someone else might step in if Steve suddenly leapt. But Steve looked up at the ceiling and then sneered at Tony. "You spying on us, Stark?"

"It's a mini prison down there. What did you expect?"

He wasn't exactly expecting Steve to turn around and stomp out like a four year old having a tantrum. Still, it meant he'd gotten rid of the thing that was irritating him so that was a plus.

After he had about half a cup of coffee, he became very aware of the two pairs of spy eyes looking at him.

"Are you his groupies now?"

Clint shook his head. "You piss him off, man, and you'll end up with him sticking his heels in. Captain America is a stubborn shit when he wants to be."

"Especially when it comes to Barnes," Natasha added.

"Yeah," Tony said, dragging out the word. "Thing is, I genuinely am the best option those kids have got. I have the money, houses, a job that isn't killing people and you know, have actually talked to the kids."

"You have killed people though," Clint said.

"And Barnes has Captain America on his side and everyone still think he's all apple pie and 40s good old fashioned attitude."

"Clearly never seen him chew someone out for jumping off a building," Clint muttered.

Natasha gave Clint a look and then frowned at Tony. "If we argue about this it could divide the team."

"Would we have to pick which if you we'd get in the divorce? I mean, Mom and Dad love you both and it's not because of you-"

She didn't really respond to the wit and that was a real shame because his was solid gold. "You can't act like a child when you're raising children."

"Or-"

Natasha glared and yeah was that scary, enough that he looked down at the swig of coffee he had left and sighed. "I don't want to…I shouldn't have to give them up."

"Barnes doesn't want Jamie," Clint said frankly and say what?

The thought must have shown on his face because the pair exchanged a look.

How could anyone not want Jamie?

Natasha slid the phone to him and lifted the camera footage onto the projection screen. He watched, silent (and thankful that she'd edited it at some point and had the woman slept?).

"So you hacked my system."

"The folder is still on the floor," Natasha said, shrinking the footage down. "Yet Adam's has been read cover to cover five times."

"You," he said with a sigh, "are about to suggest that I give him Adam and keep Jamie."

"Yes," she said with a shrug. "And then think about it logically. We live here. He should stay in a room he feels safe with and be close to his brother. He likes Bruce's cooking so eating up here seems likely. Neither Steve not Barnes is likely to manage to navigate registering children for the world as it is now and you are the expert."

Huh.

"Barnes will need therapy, even Steve agrees with that. So if Barnes is having a bad day then Steve will want to be with him and Jamie's here so you could just take both of them. You'd be Dad in all but name."

Yeah, he wasn't so sure that he liked the idea of that.

That surprised him.

"And when Adam," Clint said suddenly staring at Natasha as if amazed, "asks why Tony didn't fight to keep him one day, we should tell him what? That it was a tactical compromise?"

It genuinely didn't seem to register with her. "It's the best solution," she said simply. "And it's going to be the only solution."

Tony stood. Mostly because his coffee was gone but also because this was a dumb conversation. "Barnes, "he said, glaring at her, "is going no-where near my kids."

So he said it.

They were his.

He'd damn well make sure of it.


	7. Chapter 7

Tony Stark was being impossible. It was what he did best in Steve's opinion. Exactly when had Stark decided that he wanted a family? It hardly fitted the billionaire, playboy persona that he'd boasted about two years ago.

It was a battle he couldn't even begin to work out how to fight. And Stark would have Miss Potts on his side which would mean that the paperwork would be passed any second now and after that…he had no idea. Did they fight it? How did they fight it? If they ignored the adoption and took the boys-

Where? Honestly, where could he take Bucky and the two boys? And two boys that didn't know him.

It was such a mess.

Out on the balcony of his floor (why was there an entire floor for him? What kind of person had floors to give people?) Steve stood with his arms folded and feet planted, the stance giving him some empty comfort.

It was both a surprise and somehow expected when Stark stepped out next to him.

The irritating man stepped right in his eye-line and leant his hip against the railings. His arms folded as well and they stood staring at each other.

"Well this is going well," Stark said after a moment. "Really. Awesome talk."

"It's not a goddamned joke," Steve snapped, the fury rearing up like a beast he wasn't sure he could restrain.

"Do I look like I'm fucking kidding?" Stark snapped, vicious all of a sudden. "You want to take my kids."

"They aren't-"

"They are mine." The certainty in Stark's voice was staggering and it took Steve's breath away for a moment. He took in the dark circles around Stark's eyes as well as the exhausted air that radiated from him and for a moment felt himself falter.

But they were Bucky's.

Even knowing that, the fight within him wobbled a little more and he sighed, walking to stand next to Tony but to stare out at the view instead.

The city under them was as quiet as it could get. In the earliest hours of the morning, the streets were quieter, the fresh blue of the sky beckoning.

"What are they like?"

It was…a concession of sorts. As close as he could get at the moment and, thankfully, Stark seemed to understand this.

"Adam is quiet. Tries to…I dunno. Meet expectation? Protect Jamie? It's…he's like a little adult sometimes."

Steve tried to picture it but he couldn't quite and that didn't settle well with him. How could he not imagine what Bucky's son was like?

The phrase firmed his resolve a little more. Bucky's son, Jesus.

"Jamie is a brat. Annoying, asks a thousand questions. Has the weirdest logic known to man."

Steve raised an eyebrow. The words said one thing, but the tone… "Didn't you spend all night looking after him?"

Stark shrugged the idea away as if it were nothing, back still to the view that Steve faced. "He's precocious," he admitted after a moment. "Clever. Sees the world in a completely different way."

Ahh. "You see yourself in him."

There was a surprised noise and Stark turned, tilting his head thoughtfully. "I…" he stopped whatever it was he had been about to say and instead looked out, eyes distant.

"When I was a kid," he said eventually, "I'm not sure there was room for me. Not for my parents. Okay," Stark said, holding out a hand, "yeah, physically, they could have sprouted out hundreds of kids with the houses and rooms we had, but… I know what it's like not to be noticed. To be…useful instead of wanted.

"Barnes needs therapy. Barnes needs…" Stark trailed off and shrugged. "I don't even know what he needs and I have way too many letters after my name."

Yeah, he got that. Scrubbing his hands over his face, Steve sighed and then dropped them to the railings again. "Don't suppose I could ask you to hand them back in a year or so," he said to the wind.

"Go to hell," Stark said but without heat.

"I…I couldn't not tell him, Tony. I hope you understand that."

Stark shrugged. "So you gave him information that google would have. Big deal. Of course, you could have actually looked on google before you got here and had time to think about this-"

"Leave it alone," Steve suggested, tired. "And Natasha must have told you by now. He wants Adam. Except he called him Stefan."

He could practically feel the way that Stark's eyes bore into him. "Not sure that isn't creepy," Stark decided after a moment. "Natasha thinks I should strategically surrender and then change the square root of sweet fuck all."

Steve blinked at him.

"Dad in all but name and Barnes can have the name to keep him happy. Or non murdery. Whichever we're aiming for."

The idea turned itself around in Steve's head as he studied the angles, the ways he could use that, the way Stark could use it, the way others could use it.

"What do you think?" he asked carefully.

Stark threw him an amused look. "It's freakish when you do strategy like this," he said before humming to himself. "Okay. So we business deal this one out then? Or strap on the suits?"

"You gonna answer the question?"

"Hate it. Hate that, years later, Adam might think that I dumped him and picked Jamie."

"I hate that one day Bucky will wake up and his sons will be calling someone else Dad."

Stark's eyes narrowed. "Meet them," he said suddenly, pushing away from the railings. "We'll talk about it after lunch."

"But-"

"Meet 'em," Stark said, stepping into Steve's living room. "Might as well know what you're fighting to play step-dad too."

And he was gone before Steve could gape at him.

In the end he had a quick shower, shaved and went back up feeling oddly nervous all of a sudden. What would he say to them? What did they know?

Upstairs, Natasha and Clint were still on the sofas but Sam had joined them. He stood at the sight of Steve and clapped a hand around his shoulders. "Best night sleep I've ever had with you involved."

Clint waggled his eyebrows and Steve sighed at him before he sat down opposite them. Natasha stood as he did and made her way to the kitchen.

For a moment, he couldn't think of anything to say, the nerves of meeting the boys stealing his words.

"She's mad," Clint stage whispered. "You went sightseeing in Brooklyn without her."

Ah. That.

But then Natasha returned with a coffee and handed it to him, her expression oddly soft. Puzzled, he took it and then enjoyed the sip because, say what you wanted about Tony Stark, but he knew how to provide comforts for guests.

Well, he thought sullenly, for most guests.

"Tony wants you to meet the boys," Natasha said as she sat back into the sofa cushions. Clint hummed at that and shifted a little.

"Yeah," Steve said, a little baffled by the situation. How could he feel this nervous about it? He'd faced life and death situations but this was-

"Have you brought chocolate with you?" Clint asked, spreading out on the sofa. "Or some sweet, sugary thing?"

Was that what he was meant to do? Had he ruined this before they'd even started? What if-

"Jamie," Clint said, sitting up suddenly and leaning forward with a worried look on his face.

Steve swung his head around and there was the little boy from yesterday in the kitchen by the island counter, staring at them with a sullen expression on his face and he glared at Clint. Those eyes, god, those eyes, were Bucky through and through. So was the frown on his face that Steve could remember when they'd discovered that, after queuing for ages, the hot dogs from the cart were all gone.

"Hey kid, do you want-"

With a little sniff, Jamie scrambled up onto one of the stools by the counter and then leaned forward. To his complete shock, Steve watched as Jamie drew out one of the long kitchen knives and then, with another pointed glare at Clint, drew the other one out.

God.

It froze him. The way the boy picked the knives up, the way his hand curled around the handle was all…trained.

He knew how to wield a knife. Seven years old and he could wield a knife.

"Uh," Sam said sounding horrified. "Should we-"

Jamie held both knives easily as he jumped down and stalked out as if they'd insulted him.

Steve sat, mind numb.

Why had he taken it? To defend himself? To play? To train?

To plan an attack?

He had no idea.

Xxx

"Why does a six year old have a knife?" Wilson demanded as Tony walked in the room.

"Don't have a six year old," Tony muttered, half wishing that he'd actually tried to drown himself in the shower. "Also, traumatised child. They don't act in a normal way." He stared pointedly at Steve who seemed to be unusually quiet.

"It's a knife," Wilson reiterated, as if Tony was dumb enough that he needed obvious things pointed out.

"Adam killed four people the day I met him with a knife. Should we be sending him to juvy too?"

Ha! That knocked the sails out of Wilson. He gaped and then sat down as if Tony's words didn't make sense.

"Sir," Jarvis said, his tone apologetic and oh no, what the hell was he going to say? "They are using the knives. You asked for the alert-"

"Project it," Tony said and then raised an eyebrow when he saw the pair standing in Adam's room, half training and half, well…kind of…

Playing?

He didn't look at Steve.

Instead, he headed for the counter to load up on coffee again. A gallon of it maybe because he was already so done with this shit and it wasn't even the time he usually rolled out of bed yet.

"They're confident with them," Natasha murmured after a moment and okay, while it created an odd churning sensation in his chest to hear the boys being complemented, it was not the time to praise the kids for their knives skills.

Maybe it wasn't ever gonna be okay…but then they were Avengers. Family business and all that.

Crap, he was in way too deep.

"How are you this morning?" Natasha asked suddenly and, when Tony looked up, Bruce was walking into the room. His hair was wild and he looked like he'd been tossing and turning all night.

He stopped at the sight of the boys on the screen and his lips curled into a fond smile, despite what they were doing. There was a strange, almost yearning look in his eyes before he sat, eyes shadowing with sadness.

Were they all that fucking pathetic that they were all gonna fight over the kids?

"Minimise," he muttered and the image of the boys flickered away and back to the tablet on the table.

"Not well," Bruce confessed to Natasha's earlier question. "We need to have a plan in place," he said with certainty.

"One fucking thing at a time," Tony said, leaning his fingers on the work surface, trying to squelch down his temper.

"Hydra won't wait," Steve said without heat.

"Funny, they were happy to wait before you turned up with Terminator," Tony snapped.

Bruce sighed and stood, the look on his face indicating he was about to play mediator or say some hippy dippy crap that would make him want to laugh or yell or-

"Bruce," Jamie's voice shrieked and a dark haired streak dashed across the room and jumped up at Bruce. For a heart stopping moment, Tony wasn't sure what the hell the brat was thinking but then Bruce caught him easily and pulled him in close, arms wrapping around Jamie and pressing another hand to cup Jamie's head.

More surprising was that Adam wasn't far behind, though he slowed a little at seeing Jamie occupy Bruce's arms. Still the kid ploughed on and leaned into Bruce's side.

The surprise that Tony felt was reflected in Bruce's face as he ducked down to Adam and said something. Shifting Jamie, he reached out an arm, wrapping it around Adam to pull him in a little closer.

Right. Thanks. Tony frowned at the coffee maker, realising he'd forgotten about it.

"Did you get hurt?" Jamie asked, sounding worried. When Tony glanced over, both Jamie and Adam were peering at Bruce with some concern and okay, so maybe he'd been the only one Jamie hadn't seen.

He exchanged looks with Clint because Adam definitely had seen Bruce last night. How bad had the kid been if he couldn't remember Bruce had been with him?

"No," Bruce said, smiling down at them, clearly pleased by their attention. "The big guy keeps me safe."

That was met with identical, baffled looks and it was rare that they looked so similar, but in that exact moment they were almost twins, except one was bigger and a bit older.

Steve stood up as Bruce turned his head and let Jamie slide down to the floor, though from the way Jamie scowled up at him before he knelt, Jamie hadn't exactly wanted the hold to end. But Bruce crouched between them, his expression gentle as Jamie rocked back on his heels and Adam became wary again. "We have guests," he said in that same soothing manner, keeping an eye on Adam. "There's Natasha," he said as he nodded in the right direction. "And Sam."

Both smiled at the boys.

"And this," Bruce said, "is Steve."

Tony felt himself tense as he watched. Steve literally looked like he was about to start shaking he was so nervous. And what if they loved him because everyone fucking did and-

"Have you got weird tea?" Adam asked Bruce, leaning a little to peer at the tea Bruce had brought up from his floor.

Huh.

He almost wanted to laugh.

Of course those two cute little shits never reacted in the way he'd expected. And yeah, why would they pay him any more attention than Natasha and Sam?

The triumph was a little hollow though. The way that Steve's face fell made Tony wanted to squirm just a little because it wasn't as if he totally hated the man. Wasn't even sure if he hated him a little bit. He was just very aware that Steve was a fucking moron when it came to not being stubborn and not playing the hero.

"Food," Tony called at the boys because there was only so much awkward he could take and no-one really knew how to recover from that.

"You took the knife," Jamie replied sullenly, as if that was a reasonable answer.

"You took two," Tony said because he was almost learning how to cope with whatever the hell passed as a logical thought process in the kid's head. Steve was giving him a strange look and Tony glared straight back.

"Tony," Clint snapped as Steve turned around suddenly and seemed to give some sort of a retreat to the edge of the room before Wilson caught up with him and said something quietly.

"I took the knife," Clint said slowly, glancing back at them but so clearly wanting to follow Steve and Wilson's conversation.

Jamie nodded, as if satisfied and then practically skipped over as if all was suddenly solved in the world. Bemused, Tony watched as Jamie clambered up gracelessly on the stool and the wiggled to get himself settled. When he was happy, he rested his chin on his hands and looked up at Tony as if about to say the most serious thing in the world.

"I want pancakes."

Seriously?

"You said I should keep being a brat," Jamie said after a moment, nose crinkling.

A wave of sheer…fondness? flooded him. Clint grinned and rolled his eyes as he stood, ruffling Adam's hair before saying something softly to the boy. "With chocolate?" he asked, switching his gaze to Bruce.

Jamie nodded enthusiastically and then whirled the seat around so he could look back at the room. Wanting some connection, Tony leaned forward and rested his head on Jamie's shoulder. To his delight, Adam seemed to pick up on it and turned.

God, he hoped all three of them were giving Bruce the same puppy dog look.

It seemed like it. Brucie-bear was already looking like he wanted to go back to bed or heave a sigh or throw a tiny Hulk tantrum. "Right," he said slowly before looking down at Adam and the kid had to have superpowers because Bruce actually seemed to give in. "I don't approve of this," he added as he walked into the kitchen.

"We do," Tony said and hooked his hands underneath Jamie's arms to lift him up and twist him around before he put the kid over his shoulder.

"We really do," Jamie sing-songed from behind him and the kid sounded like he was having the time of his life.

"Do you not have a chef?" Bruce murmured as they walked past each other.

"Pretty sure I have one," Tony replied as he caught Steve watching him, that strange expression still on his face. When he got close to Adam and the middle of the room, Tony righted Jamie and set him on the floor. "Give me the knife," he ordered because he probably should try his hand at this whole discipline thing.

"No," Jamie said firmly and without concern.

That was…not exactly how he'd imagined this going. How would he have reacted in Jamie's position at that age?

Maybe that wasn't the thing to strive for.

"Uh…shall we try yes?"

That seemed to confuse the brat. "I don't want to," Jamie replied moodlily.

"I don't want you to have the knife," Tony pointed out. And yeah, he was getting the hang of-

"Maybe we should ask Pepper," Jamie said, completely serious and, behind him, Clint snorted and whirled around when Adam blinked at him. Even Wilson hid a smile behind his hand.

"I'm teaching him," Adam said hesitantly as he came closer, his position getting ready to defend Jamie if needed and, good as it was to see that he'd look after his little brother, it still hurt that he felt the need to do it.

"I saw," Tony said, trying not to let the feeling show. "Butter knives only from now on."

Adam hummed a little at that, as if thinking it through, but Jamie groaned as if they'd confiscated the best game on the earth.

"Come on," Clint said, patting the sofa. "Shall we race while Chef Bruce cooks?"

There was an irritated sigh from the kitchen.

Xxx

"So," Stark said, taking a seat next to Steve. "Thoughts?"

The boys were currently racing on the TV after the battle of Bruce vs the boys to get some form of fruit down them with the pancakes. Stark had sat looking amused and apparently unwilling to help ensure the children didn't suffer from scurvy.

At least he wasn't lying, Steve supposed. He couldn't really see Stark as the person who would make sure that the boys were following a nutritious diet or following a routine perfectly.

But no-one could deny that the boys were healthy and happy.

"You're doing well with them," Steve admitted quietly, hands wrapping around his mug of coffee.

Stark hummed a little. "Well…" Then he sighed and leaned back into the sofa. "Fuck it," he muttered. "Adam had a panic attack last night."

"I heard-"

"He doesn't remember it," Stark said firmly. "Doesn't remember that Bruce was there."

Memory loss. Severe trauma. "You said he'd killed?"

"Yeah, when we first found them. And fuck knows what Hydra wanted when they were training him."

"And there's a therapist with them?"

"Yeah." Stark turned his head and watched the boys, his face expressionless. "Jamie's memory has almost completely faded. A coping mechanism. He remembers it like a story, without any of the emotions and even then it's faded. Adam…I dunno. He keeps a lot to himself."

"But," Steve said, watching the children now.

"But…" Stark sounded suddenly exhausted. "But Jamie has nothing. No serum, no powers. Nothing that Hydra would have valued. The fact that he survived…I'm guessing that was Adam. The fact the he remembers so little…pretty sure that speaks volumes. Who the fuck knows what will happen if Jamie has his full memory of that time. And Adam…that's a ticking time bomb."

"And not one that should be around Bucky." Steve could feel something within him sink at the idea.

"That sounds suspiciously like you've changed your mind," Stark said carelessly. Steve was starting to wonder if that was the key to dealing with the man. Sometimes, the more flippant he got, the more he cared about the issue.

"I want him to be in their lives," Steve said firmly. "But…I understand your worries. I understand he can't take care of them full time. That I couldn't," he said, because he'd debated that one a few times. "But they're happy," he added softly.

They sat in silence for a while, just watching the two boys. Adam and Jamie, Steve thought. It was strange to think how important these two could be. Bucky's sons. Tony's sons. The children of the Avengers.

But still, two little boys who were so terribly vulnerable.

"They'll warm to you," Stark said suddenly. "They're…rude. Yeah. But they get attached to people quickly. Feed 'em some junk food and they'll love you forever."

It made Steve almost smile. "You need to talk to Bucky," he said firmly, still not willing to quite let it go. Stark apparently didn't like that because the relaxed attitude dropped like a bomb.

"You know you do," Steve pushed.

"Two o clock," Stark said with a careless shrug. "Gotta make sure these two don't suddenly have a diabetic crash."

That was probably actually a genuine fear.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - this goes into some detail the conditions that Jamie and Adam faced and the experiences that Bucky underwent while a prisoner. It's not graphic, but the ideas aren't pleasant.

The basement containment cells felt dark and moody. Not that it was something that had occurred to him when designing it, but compared to the rest of the tower and his own preferences, the containment area was definitely oppressive.

Maybe it was Barnes. The man radiated grouchiness and misery and being a fucking pain in Tony's ass.

He'd stood when he'd noticed it wasn't Steve. He was taller than Tony and built like he'd been brainwashed and excessively trained for 70 years so at least he had something to show for it. Yay for him.

"You know who I am?"

Those blue eyes (and yeah, annoyingly, they were the same shade as Adam and Jamie's) narrowed and there was an almost unanchored expression on Barnes' face for a flash of a second. Barnes shook his head minutely.

"Tony Stark." Wow, it had been a damned long time since he'd had to introduce himself.

Now there was some recognition. "You're looking after…" he trailed off, frown twisting up his face. His lips moved as if to form the letter s, but he seemed to give up before he drew in breath to make the sound.

"Adam," Tony filled in firmly. "And Jamie."

"I know the name Stark," Barnes said softly, looking away, brow furrowing as if trying to work it out.

"My father. He…" Tony twirled his fingers, "You know. Made Steve not small and scrawny. Or helped to, anyway."

Barnes made a noise in response that could have indicated he was pleased or fucking furious about that. Tony really had no clue.

"So," Tony said when the silence after that dragged on. "You are even less chatty than Steve is, which, impressive. I mean when he's being stubborn he can sit like some tree in my very expensive penthouse and glare until the end of the week. Haven't seen him go beyond that, but you never know. Maybe he can break some world record and-"

"Why are you here?" Barnes asked, suddenly sounding exhausted. "What do you want?"

Tony tapped his knuckles on the cell wall, watching Barnes. "Steve wants you to be involved with the kids. He wants you to be their Daddy."

Barnes lifted his chin and had he got that from Steve or had Steve got that from him? Either way, Tony knew exactly what it meant, despite the lack of words.

"You're unstable," Tony pressed stepping closer. "You've killed. You've been Hydra's pet for almost three quarters of a century. PTSD, mind manipulation, the electric shocks. You're healing, but that's when it all comes out," he stepped dangerously close now. "You can't cope with kids that are suffering in the exact same way."

Steel blue eyes narrowed and Tony had the oddest sensation that maybe he'd miscalculated because suddenly Barnes stepped close as well.

"But you are not their father," Barnes sneered suddenly. "You cannot comprehend what we suffered. You will fail to help them."

It knocked the breath from him and yeah, Barnes had once been a sniper and it seemed like he still knew the most vulnerable spots to take a shot at.

"You're in my house," Tony said because he'd never backed down from anything before and like hell was he doing so when it was about those kids. "And there are so many warrants out for your arrest that I'd actually kinda be interested to see who turned up first. I am keeping you from a max prison and if Hydra could hold you, believe me, so can I. You will back the fuck down or you will spend the rest of your life in captivity that will make your cell at Hydra look like a king size suite."

Glass spiderwebbed as Barnes slammed his metal fist against the cell wall and that so wasn't meant to happen. He'd designed it to hold someone of Steve's strength, but so he hadn't factored in the metal hand.

Hadn't exactly planned to have Barnes in it because why the fuck would he expect Steve to walk in with the Winter Soldier?

"Try," Barnes suggested and the confidence in his voice made Tony waver, just a little. He wasn't afraid, that wasn't what it was. But…yeah, it wasn't the greatest moment of his life.

They'd tear each other apart if they kept on like this and then where would the kids be? Or the Avengers?

He hated being the responsible one.

Humming and tracing the crack with his fingers as if idly curious, Tony pretended to reconsider. The glass hadn't quite cracked on the outer part but maybe two or three more blows would do it. Steve would be down before that happened and then Tony could have a damned good reason to have Barnes put away or put down or just generally put out of his vicinity.

"We'll try Steve's way then," Tony said and the name was enough to make Barnes retract a little, as if he might suddenly be scolded. Interesting. "What do you want?"

"Stefan."

"Adam," Tony said firmly. "Let's not add in another name to the kid who blanks out nights of his life and still answers to a designation."

Slowly, there was a nod of acceptance.

Yay, first win.

"Not Jamie?"

There wasn't a response, but Barnes wouldn't meet his eyes. And there was something more here, but Tony wasn't poking that snake if it meant he was getting what he wanted.

"So where you gonna go?" Tony asked, turning to pick up a chair and drag it over. "I mean, without my help. You got money? Somewhere safe? A place to settle so that Adam isn't being dragged from country to country, always on the run?"

There. Oh yes, he could see it. Barnes was putting on a front, being desperate to have some power, some say in this, but ultimately he knew it was pie in the sky.

"And I mean," Tony settled himself into the chair, "you have a nightmare and lash out and the kid comes over-"

"Shut up," Barnes yelled, panting now, eyes going wild. "Steve wouldn't-"

"How much will you pile on him?" Tony asked.

Barnes looked lost and victory was within grasp.

Then: "If you keep him from me, I will take him." Barnes seemed to be gathering himself back up and maybe that was easier to do when you'd been broken down so many times. "I won't watch him be taken from me again."

Despite it all, despite everything, Tony felt…something. The image of Barnes, younger and maybe a little cleaner than he was now, watching his baby son be taken by the people that had made his life a living hell. Remembering that he'd been the pet of Hydra as they'd 'trained' that son…yeah. Tony wasn't sure if he'd be able to walk away if he was in the same situation.

"Visitation," Tony heard his voice say. "You can be a weekend Dad, like we're some fucking divorced couple. And we'll see."

"Here?" Barnes said after a few moments of thought.

"I hold the keys, Barnes. You prove yourself to be responsible and I'll give you a room or two to run around in."

There was a slow nod and Tony stood, not really sure whether to count that as a win or a loss.

Xx

Adam was still in the workshop where he'd left him. The kid was watching Dummy as the robot tried to tidy up and looked thoroughly bemused by the sight.

He didn't want to do this. Didn't want to have this conversation, but the kid knew something. And, at some point, he'd have to take Adam down like some fucking sacrificial lamb to meet Barnes.

Wow, maybe he could grab the boys and fly away. Or get a space ship.

Or ask Thor for a lift. He could live in Asgard. Like…there was technology there.

Right?

Adam's head tilted to meet Tony's stare and okay, time was up.

He walked in and sat down by the kid, twisting the seats so that they were close enough to each other that he could reach out of needed. "So," Tony said, really not sure how to do this. "Lay it on me."

Adam furrowed his nose. "Lay what on you?" he asked, voice a little baffled.

"Upstairs. The whole gene thing."

The same uncomfortable look crossed Adam's face. "Test men talked about it," he hedged? Yeah, that was a slight evasion. Tony knew those. He was the king of those.

"They tell you anything about your genes?"

Adam chewed on his lip and then nodded a little bit. "Warriors," he said after a moment. "Soldiers. Enhanced."

Sounded more like a blanket speech then. Maybe for all of the kids that Hydra had been creating in the base. "We…okay so…I know who donated your genes."

Yeah, that was so not the best way to phrase it, but Adam was clever. He was alert suddenly, eyes trained on Tony's face.

"He um…he was a friend of Steve's." Tony wracked his brains because he needed good stuff, but not too good. "They went to war together and then he was captured. Hydra…the people that had you. They hurt him until he worked for them."

Adam nodded and then shifted, shoulders drawing in a little as he fiddled with his fingers and he didn't seem surprised or shocked or like he wanted to know more, or check Tony's data…

"You've been told about him."

Adam continued to chew at his lip and then shook his head. Then he mumbled something.

"What?"

"I met him," came the whispered response.

There was no way Adam could remember being a baby. Even the serum wouldn't allow for those kinds of memories. And Barnes had been weird about wanting Adam and not Jamie…

They'd all met each other already.

"When?" Tony asked quietly, trying not to show any reaction.

"I don't…" Adam's face creased up. "In the lab," he said and his voice sounded small, as if he knew how useless the answer was. Hating the look on his face, Tony reached out a hand and laid it on the boy's shoulder, trying to convey comfort and…yeah. Love. The kid leaned in a little, looking about as adrift as Barnes had earlier.

"What…do you want to tell me?"

Adam frowned down at the floor, leaning in a little closer. "Nothing," he said slowly. "I just…I was…fighting? And he was there. Watching. They asked about how he thought his genes were doing. He was…" Adam seemed to struggle and he looked up at Tony. "I don't know how to say it."

Hating that, Tony reached out with his other hand to stroke Adam's stray fringe hairs away from his forehead. "I can throw out some words," he said after a moment. "Blank, angry, scary, military-"

Adam shook his head. "Scared?" he said hesitantly. "The second time he was different. More…blank."

Scared?

"Or maybe the other way around," Adam said after a moment, chin wobbling. "I don't…I can't…"

Tony pulled him in because the kid was getting upset and what the hell was wrong with Adam's memory?

Xxx

By the time Steve had arrived down in the workshop, Adam was asleep in the bunk and Tony was using Jarvis to scour the records and any of the camera footage that could be recovered.

"Bucky's silent." The statement sounded like an accusation.

"He and Adam met before."

Score to him because that shut Steve up. The old man blinked at him and then sat down heavily in the seat that Adam had been sitting in earlier.

"Bucky said that?"

"Adam did. And I'm pretty sure Barnes knew that. Would explain a few things." Tony folded his arms and then sighed. "I think he met Jamie as well."

"Doesn't explain why Bucky's not interested in Jamie."

Mm. "Cross referencing," Tony said, trying to keep his voice casual. "Barnes went on a walkabout according to his folder. About three years ago. They caught him in Brooklyn. Guess the familiarity did it or he saw something which triggered part of his memory-"

"Are you getting close to a point?" Sassy Rogers asked.

"And, three years ago," Tony threw up D4s file, "this seems to have happened the week that they recaptured him."

Steve swallowed. "You think it was punishment."

Maybe. "Adam said they met twice. Once he was scared and once he was 'blank'. Granted Adam's the first to admit he hasn't quite got the words to describe the encounters. Need to get him watching a few angsty films. Get the vocab right." He waved it away. "But Adam can't remember which way round it was."

Steve's eyes were glued to the screen as Jarvis continued the scans. "And Jamie?"

"Jamie'll be a dead end," Tony said firmly. "Kid only has broad memories. The psychologist said that he's compartmentalised. What we might get is an emotional reaction if they meet but-"

"If they meet?" Steve demanded.

Tony shrugged. "Barnes doesn't want him."

Steve's jaw ticked but he said nothing. "You think Bucky knows anyway."

He had to.

"You have a theory," Steve added.

"Sparring, blank, scared but not quite that. Something that was done in response to Barnes running away that's left Barnes unwilling to speak about it, both kids unable to remember it and one kid dead." Tony looked at Steve. "What do you think happened?"

Steve simply closed his eyes.

"You think he killed the third child."

Xxx

The sole thing that Bucky did was raise his eyebrows when Steve opened up the cells.

"We're going for a drive," Steve announced, turning towards the door without looking back to see if Bucky was following.

"We coming back?"

"After we talk," Steve said, holding the door open pointedly. "Come on."

They went up to the garage in silence and drove out the same way. It was a risk, probably stupid as hell, but that had never stopped them before. Besides, even Stark had nodded his acceptance of the idea.

The idea of starting the conversation while driving would have been damned foolish though, so Steve waited until they were out of the city, into upstate where the scenery grew greener and more lush.

Then he pulled over.

They sat in the car as Steve killed the engine and then listened to the quiet clicks of the engine, the birds outside and the rustling wind. Moments like this made it seems as if the world might actually slow down and give him some time or somehow carve a window back to before the war and the serum.

He tried to imagine their past versions sitting to have this conversation. Bucky would have made contact by now, nudging him with a concerned look on his face even as he tried to hide whatever it was that was bothering him. And Steve would have been more dogged, pushed harder because he couldn't do it physically. And he would have Bucky as his priority.

It killed him that it couldn't be the case anymore.

"Did you kill him?"

Bucky didn't seem to need any explanation or context. Instead, he continued to stare out at the view and then nodded, once.

"You've met Adam and Jamie before," Steve continued.

"What did they say?" Bucky asked hoarsely.

"Adam barely remembers, Jamie doesn't remember anything really of his time. The psychologist said about compartmentalising-"

The words made Bucky growl and then he was out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Steve sat in the car, drawing breath to gather himself before he followed Bucky.

His friend was sat on the trunk of the car, arms folded and his mouth firmed as if holding back an army.

"Talk to me," Steve whispered gently, sitting next to him.

"I ran. They caught me. They took me to the lab. They triggered me. Then they told me the target I'd just killed was biologically mine." The entire thing was said in such a monotone voice that Steve winced at it, even as he tried to comprehend what Bucky was saying.

"They told you after," Steve whispered, trying to imagine that. Being triggered (and that was something they'd have to come back to) and then to awaken and see…

Bucky nodded, eyes suspiciously bright. "He was…tiny," he said after a moment. "He tried to fight but," he broke off and looked away, wrestling with the memory and Steve wasn't sure that it would ever be one that Bucky would reconcile with.

"Stark said that Clint found his body," Steve said into the quietness of the countryside. "They buried him."

Bucky closed his eyes. "Where?"

"I…I can find out?"

Bucky gave a sharp nod and then opened his eyes and stared ahead, arms still folded and his back tight, tense. Steve could imagine that Hydra had trained that into him as well, sitting like some immovable statue, a decorative, living threat for meetings or to impress higher ups.

The burning, hot anger in his chest felt like it would never end.

"There's more?" he asked. When Bucky said nothing, Steve ploughed on. "Bucky, you're keeping something-"

"Self-fulfilling prophecy," Bucky murmured. "Treat a monster like a monster and he'll always be a monster."

"You're not…"Steve trailed off, thinking. "You're not talking about yourself, are you?"

"Won't make difference with me." Bucky swallowed. "That day…" he seemed to be struggling to find the strength to talk about it. "Two kids in that room. They aimed me at the eldest. And when I came back to myself and after they told me that…I looked at the youngest. He'd just seen me…seen…" Bucky shook his head. "The kid stared at me and we just stared at each other. Then…he opens his mouth and…vasha rabota byla podarkom chelovechestvu . Vy pomogli sformirovat' stoletiye."

Steve frowned at the words. "He knew Russian?"

"He knew trigger words. Words to create…degrees of agreement. They're not strong, they were new ones or old ones that hadn't been used…" Bucky hadn't looked at him once. "But this was meant to be in English and he…there's no way he could have known it. They were the triggers that Pierce used."

That was…surely that was impossible. How could Jamie have known those words, have known Russian?

"They told me…I'm staring at this four year old kid and…they brought in Stefan…Adam. Next time it would be him."

And not Jamie? Why not Jamie? The only one to not have any of the serum, to be tested as normal time and time again. What did Hydra want from him?

"He doesn't remember," Steve said. "He seems like a normal happy-"

"They didn't know each other," Bucky said hoarsely. "The youngest one and St…Adam. Then the kid blinks and they both scream."

What?

"They went to take the youngest one away and…Adam," Bucky said the name as if starting to accept it, "he killed one of the guards to get to Jamie."

It was almost impossible to understand that. That a little boy who had watched his brother die had said a phrase that he couldn't have known, in a language he had never learned and then connected instantly with a brother he hadn't met, to the point where that brother killed to protect him could possibly be the same little boy that was upstairs…

It didn't make sense.

"They tested him," Steve heard himself say. "Every test was negative," and, now that he thought about it, there had been so many tests. So many visits to the doctor. "They didn't know, did they?"

Bucky didn't respond. He seemed almost lost in his own thoughts. Steve couldn't quite add it up in his mind. Certainly, Jamie was unusual. He went for knives, he seemed to have strange logic, seemed a little like he was becoming spoiled, but that all seemed to make sense given his life so far. Standing, he stumbled away a little and Bucky didn't stop him. Instead, Steve reached into the back of the car and picked up the folders that he'd picked up on his way out, flicking through Jamie's once more. They'd tested his blood and his mind. Almost every single week. And, in the end, that entire lab had only been based around two children.

"Read it," he demanded as he sat back down next to Bucky. Mercifully, there was no argument. Bucky took the file and flicked through without emotion and Steve wondered how truthful the detachment was. How much was a coping mechanism because if Jamie wasn't really his then D4 hadn't been his and then Bucky never had to deal with the fact that one of his sons had died at his own hand. How was anyone meant to live with that knowledge?

The moment Bucky found something it showed in his face though. Fury raced across his countenance, twisting his lip in to a snarl. "Lukin," Bucky hissed and slammed the folder shut.

"Lukin?"

"One of my first handlers after…after." Bucky stood and started to pace, tossing the file down onto the trunk. "A favourite of Schmidt."

It had been years since he'd heard that name. Steve wasn't even sure if most people knew that he'd existed, either as himself or as Red Skull. Other than the incident with the plane, their war with each other had been almost a secret within the army, the Howling Commandos being deployed to deal with him as and when needed.

"He must be over a hundred," Steve said, watching Bucky.

"He helped create my version of the serum. Not too sure old age would be an issue. He was a teenager when we were in the war. A genius. Fucking crazy too."

"When was the last time you saw him?" Steve asked.

Bucky shrugged and maybe that had been an unfair question given how fragmented his memory still was. Though Steve strongly suspected it wasn't as bad as Bucky claimed it was. Or wished it was.

"If he created…Jamie," Bucky said as if struggling with the name, "then he did it for a reason. And Jamie was the highest priority out of the three. They've put something in him, they have to have."

A time bomb.

Jesus.

It was so endlessly cruel. Every time he thought that Hydra couldn't sink any lower, they found new horrific depths. "We need to separate them. Whatever happened to Stefan that day…" Bucky shook his head. "It needs to be undone. And…one day…"

One day. One day Tony would be the father of Jamie and wouldn't let anyone harm a hair on his head, yet…yet Jamie might, (might, god please let it never happen) become a threat to them. The sneaking, creeping plan of Hydra's that could devastate them all. 

Send him away? Where? Who could get to him? Keep him? Treat him like a monster and it would happen. Or…

"Hydra knows," Bucky said after a pause. "They could-"

"We'll deal with it if it happens," Steve said, reaching out a hand to grip Bucky's elbow as if he could translate strength and loyalty and hope through his skin and into Bucky's very bones. "We always did, right?"

They were close. So close and Bucky's eyes narrowed, but more out of curiosity than anything else. It was so wrong that during this conversation, of all conversations, that Steve suddenly became very aware of their contact, his fingers around the covered flesh elbow. The way his thumb could easily move to stroke the material and skin underneath.

Unsure, and frustrated with himself, Steve dropped his grip and shoved his hands in his pockets. Bucky was still watching him and Steve shook his head. "Not today," he said, feeling exhausted. It was probably the wrong thing to say because Bucky's face crumpled further into bafflement but…god, who could blame him?

"We should head back," Steve said after a few beats.

"Stevie?" The old nickname made him want to… He had no idea what. But not now. Not here or after that conversation. Not when he was returning to lie to the people that he trusted with his life.

xxx

Three days later, he lifted Jamie into his arms and walked away from Bucky, taking Adam with him because Jamie was starting to shake and then Adam was starting to shake and how no-one else ever worked out that Jamie was affecting Adam, Steve had no idea.

And he hadn't factored in Bucky's reaction to seeing Jamie. The moment his eyes had landed on the child, Steve could almost feel the shift. To be confronted with the same face, the same gaze that he had seen when he'd slaughtered D4?

Bucky didn't react well to it. Any progress, any hope they'd had threw him months backwards. It was as if his memories of being Bucky Barnes again flew away, as fragile as a snow flake and Bucky was left with rough, cruel words as his myriad of confused emotions found a target in Jamie. 

Perhaps limiting his interactions with Adam wasn't a bad idea, just for now. Except now that he was looking for it, he could see it. See when Jamie didn't react but then Adam did, or when Adam reacted and Jamie mimicked it until Adam didn't seem to feel anything any more. That couldn't be healthy, surely?

And yet, he couldn't bring himself to say the words to Tony. To mention that Bucky had been triggered once, that Jamie might have a ticking time bomb within him. He'd keep an eye on it all. It would be the best thing for everyone.

Surely.


	9. Chapter 9

"He was mean to Jamie," Adam whispered, curled up on the sofa. Steve hovered, unsure as to how to make it better before he sighed and risked taking a seat next to the boy.

They were on his floor, one that he'd hoped he could share with Bucky, though clearly that couldn't happen for a while. Tony was still sitting with Jamie and all Steve could think about was the need to separate Adam from Jamie while Jamie was having a reaction to something.

"It's difficult for him," Steve said honestly, resting his elbows on his knees. "He's been hurt for a long time. That doesn't get better immediately."

If ever.

"You knew him," Adam said after a while. "Tony said…that you were friends."

"We were," Steve said, knowing that the warmth was seeping into his voice without conscious thought. "He looked after me when I was a kid. I was small, scrawny. He'd finish a fight for me or get me medicine. Work to get extra food or pay the bills when I was sick."

"You're a hero," Adam murmured. "Was he?"

"More than me," Steve said and turned his head to look at Bucky's son. "He went off to war before he had any special abilities. He fought even after being hurt. He saved me."

There was a small, hopeful little smile.

"See," Steve said, reaching for his phone and bringing up the image of Bucky in his uniform. "That was him when he was younger. Before…all this."

It was impossible to know what Adam was thinking. He studied the image with intense concentration, steel blue eyes lingering over Bucky's face and an almost wistful expression passing over him. "They hurt him worse than me and Jamie."

"He's an adult," Steve said and hated how callous that might seem to be. "It hurts him more what happened to you two. How helpless he was during it. They controlled his mind and he couldn't save you." He reached out to clasp Adam's shoulder firmly. "You are the priority. For all of us."

Adam's eyes lifted to the ceiling. "Tony likes Jamie better," he whispered.

It would be easy to say the words that would ensure Adam was separated from his brother. They needed to be separated.

"Jamie's younger. More demanding. You protect your little brother, right pal?"

Adam nodded seriously, but the set of his shoulders and the frown on his face was more resigned than Steve would have liked.

"Sometimes," he said watching the boy carefully, "when you want a break from being a big brother, you can always come down here. It doesn't mean that you don't love Jamie or that you don't want to be his big brother, but sometimes it's nice to have time out."

Adam nodded and leaned into him a little. "I think…I want to know him," he said softly, staring at the picture again. "But…he's mean to Jamie."

And they'd come full circle.

"It's not your job to protect Jamie," Steve said. As soon as he said it he knew it was the wrong thing to say because the confused frown became a full scowl.

Adam didn't say anything, but it was clear that he'd shut down from the conversation. There was a coldness to his expression. "Can I go back upstairs?" he asked after a moment.

"Of course," Steve said with a nod, moving back. "Of course you can."

Adam left without another word.

xxx

"Pepper-roo," Tony called as she walked into his workshop. "Look, I actually have the specs but they're upstairs-"

Pepper stopped in front of him, dressed so very casually and he kind of loved her for remembering that the boys were scared of the 'scary business woman with the clicky heels'.

One of many reasons.

"Not here to nag you," she said, placing the papers on the counter and then rolled her eyes when the discarded shrapnel scattering the surface got in the way of her sweeping them across to him. "I came to give you the best present ever."

Best present ever. He looked at it doubtfully. "Unless that's an interdimensional door, I seriously doubt…" he trailed off when she lifted the top of the paper, angling it so that he could read it.

The adoption papers.

There weren't many days in his life where he'd known something was about to change irrevocably. He hadn't really understood it the first time he'd been dragged on stage by his father at an expo. Hadn't known the morning that his parents drove to the airport that he was about to become an orphan and had been too hammered to understand that his twenty first birthday was an opportunity that he squandered. The birth of Iron Man hadn't been something that he'd had a chance to think about and, if was honest, until he'd opened his mouth in that press conference, he'd been prepared to go with the stupid bodyguard idea.

Who the hell knew what would have happened had he not felt like annoying those who implied he couldn't possibly be Iron Man.

And then the Avengers…hadn't really thought about that. Kissing Pepper had been more hopeful, and losing her had been her idea.

But this?

This was planned. Intentional. Something that he wanted.

Slowly, he reached out for the papers.

"It's done?"

"It will be stronger if we have Sergeant Barnes' signature giving up parental rights," Pepper said softly. "You don't need it though. But he could cause difficulties if we make him a legal tax paying citizen again."

"Tax paying," Tony scoffed, though his heart wasn't in it. "I literally pay their wages and their fucking taxes and-"

"Tony," Pepper said, laying her hand over his. "Go and get the signature and then go and be Jamie's Dad."

The words were terrifying in a way. That was dumb because what was gonna change, but he felt afraid all the same. Not the heart churning fear of a life threatening situation or the heart stopping moment when a loved one was threated. It was more the endless repeating terror that he was gonna screw this up. Starks hardly made good fathers.

"Yeah," he said, standing and nodding and probably looking like a frickin' idiot.

She followed him down and he wanted to tell her that it was unnecessary and that Barnes was shit company but the words couldn't seem to make it into his mouth. She knew him well enough, he thought as she slipped her hand in his while they were in the lift.

Yeah. She knew him.

Steve was there when Tony walked in because in the past week he'd become Barnes' shadow, eyes surrounded by dark circles and probably haunted by nightmares because he was Captain America and believed that everything wrong in the wold happened because he wasn't quick enough to stop it.

"Cap," Tony said as he walked over. "Barnes. Scared any small children today?"

"Tony," Pepper murmured as Barnes' gaze slid to Steve's. The pair seemed to exchange something and then Steve sighed and backed away.

Tony pressed the papers to the glass that he'd replaced and that Barnes fucking well wasn't getting through. "Need your mark," he said pointedly.

"What is it?" Steve asked quietly.

"Jamie's adoption papers," Pepper said, folding her arms and waiting.

It was hard to get a read on Barnes. Tony had gone down to scream murder at him the last time he'd interacted with Jamie which did absolutely nothing because he'd gone into Robo-Cop mode. Yesterday he'd been subdued, almost like a kicked puppy and this morning he'd been almost Bucky Barnes 2.0.

And still Steve wanted Adam to spend time with him.

It was not happening. Adam could spend all day long with Steve, that was fine. And Sam. Sam was probably the sanest one out of all of them. Kid would probably have the best role model with Wilson. Not Barnes though, not right now.

So not happening.

Anyway, the point was that Barnes stared at the papers and looked almost…sad? Maybe it was puppy dog mode kicking in again, maybe Steve had looked disappointed all over lunch and Barnes was hoping the puppy dog eyes would help matters.

Then Barnes nodded. "You gonna give me a pen?"

Yeah. "Kinda curious as to how many ways you could kill a man with one," Tony admitted as Steve stepped forward and then stopped at his words and threw him a glare.

"We should categorise your glares," Tony decided when Steve continued and took the papers to slide through the hatch they used to feed Barnes. "They can be our secret weapon for when Congress is irritating."

It had to be his imagination that Barnes almost smiled. The mood changed as he picked up the papers and then lifted his gaze to Steve.

They stared at each other to the point where Tony was almost sure he was intruding in some way and, at the moment he would have said something, Pepper placed a hand on his arm. "Don't," she said in such a gentle murmur that Tony almost didn't hear her.

"They're having a moment," Tony whispered and super ears had definitely had heard that because the pair shifted and Barnes picked up the pen to sign with an impressive flourish.

Steve brought both the pen and the papers back over and so Tony signed there and then because he wanted Jamie to be his.

His son.

And that was it. No thunder or lightning or gods or alien invasions. No press or shrapnel in the heart or murderous uncle figures.

It was simple.

He, Tony Stark was now a genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropic father.

So that was new.

xxx

Jamie, obviously, reacted with his usual care in that he didn't seem to react at all until he popped his head back around the door and peered at Tony.

"Dad?"

Holly hell. The word made his heart thud weirdly and he stared at the boy half convinced he was about to pathetically burst into tears or something.

"Yeah?"

"Just checking," Jamie said before running off.

Fucking brat. His fucking brat.

Tony laughed until he…well… until he got used to it.

xxx

The one thing that ruined it was the whole situation with Adam and, well…Jamie with the idea. Not that Tony could blame the kid because it was confusing and he doubted any seven year old was gonna get it.

But…okay so he should have moved a bit quicker, but he'd been trying to work out how to approach the topic with Adam when he'd heard Jamie in the doorway of Adam's room.

"Tony's my dad now." Jamie swung back and forth, hands reaching out and fingers curling around the doorframe and he rocked. "Is he yours?"

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck fuck!

Rather than go and deal with it, he swung around in panic to Pepper and searched for a solution because she always had one. But she too was staring down the hall and wincing and looking just as floored as Tony felt.

He didn't hear Adam's response but Jamie hummed and then swung a bit more so that the necklace Tony had given him with a photocopied version of the adoption papers folded within was visible. "I got this," he announced, clearly pleased. "First," he added with all the joy of a little brother who was used to getting things second.

God, kid. Tact!

"Adam," Tony called, just to get Jamie to shut the hell up. "Can we…go for a walk?"

A walk to where? The roof. That might work.

"Can I come?" Jamie asked, bending back now and peering curiously.

And then how to not make him feel left out?

"Can you show me what Tony gave you?" Pepper asked, gesturing to her own neck. And god bless her because Jamie bounded over, the grin on his face momentarily lightening Tony's load because the kid was so clearly delighted with the situation.

"Come on," Tony said, lifting his arm as Adam skulked forward. The kid was trying to keep his face blank but there was a battle between hope and fear clearly warring on his face and there was a slightly panicked look towards Jamie.

He took them up to the roof and there was the whole of New York at their feet which he'd so give the kid in a second. They both leaned against the rails, wind in their hair and it was almost better than flying in the suit.

"You're not…" Adam's nose wrinkled as he struggled with the right word. "You're not gonna be my dad, are you?"

"Bucky wants you," Tony said, staring at his hands and then, wincing, stared at the kid just in time to catch the confused look. "He's…" he looked away again. "He remembers having you. You being a baby, Hydra taking you from him. He loves you."

Adam was silent.

"I love you," Tony whispered. "But…" Jesus how did he explain this? "He won't give you up."

When he risked a look again, Adam was silent, staring ahead and his brow furrowed. "But…you have Jamie."

"He didn't know Jamie," Tony replied with a shrug. "He knew you. And you're curious, I saw you with him. You want to get to know him."

"Yeah but-" Adam stopped what he'd been about to say.

"I know," Tony said, wrapping an arm around the kid. "I'll tell you now, I plan on changing fuck all. You'll stay with me. You'll still see your brat of a brother. Bruce will make us pancakes and we'll order pizza when we want it. And you're my kid."

Adam blinked up at him. "But I'm not," he said frankly and Tony had no idea how to take that, or even what Adam meant by it. Not really sure what to say, he kept his arm around the boy, but didn't say anything.

"You can choose this," Tony said eventually. "How much you see him or-"

"Can I see him now?" Adam asked, pulling away a little.

Oh. Irrational hurt, right? Like, he wasn't meant to feel that was a slight against him. "I…I'll ask Steve. He can take you down-"

"Are you keeping him in the cells?"

Ah. Yeah so that looked bad. Like they were enemies and- Tony frowned down at the city, oddly feeling as if he was losing control of the situation. Was this a reaction to Jamie or how Adam had felt or was Adam genuinely trying to work the whole complicated mess out? He had no fucking clue and he had a feeling that any misstep could be catastrophic.

But he didn't have a clue what to do.

"Are you?" Adam asked, sounding a little tougher now. His blue eyes were narrowed in disappointment and shit, what was he meant to do?

Tell him Barnes is a fucking murderer. That he killed kids. That he probably killed Adam's own little brother. That he was a fucking asshole who took it all out on a clueless seven year old and would probably drag Adam down with him.

He'd look like the enemy, wouldn't he? Say yes, say no… Fuck it; he'd been outmanoeuvred by an eleven year old.

"It's…there's more to it."

Adam pulled back in every conceivable way. "Can we go downstairs?"

Right.

He called Steve when Adam went ahead. "You've backed me into a fucking corner," he snarled.

"What-"

"I'm the father to one of them so now I look like the bastard who doesn't want both. And now Adam wants Barnes out because I'm holding his Dad prisoner. And I can't fucking explain this, can I?"

There was a telling silence on the other end of the line. "I'm sorry, Tony," Steve said sincerely and it only pissed Tony off more. "Neither of us can change the situation. We just have to do the best we can."

Tony hung up and debated throwing the phone somewhere in the hopes that it would knock Steve in his stubborn head.

Adam had gone to find Steve by the time he got down into the main room. Tony headed for the bar, only to be stopped by Jamie dashing after him.

"So what now?" Jamie chirped, scuttling to stay at a pace with him.

"Meaning?" he kinda snapped.

Thankfully, the kid was oblivious and he grinned, apparently pleased that Tony had stopped walking, and pressed into Tony's side. "I can demand hugs," Jamie said seriously. "Clint said. And I can get stories. And toys. Though not too many toys," he added, downhearted.

Not really thinking his actions through, Tony hefted Jamie up into his arms and tightened his grip on the kid that he was meant to take care of, and keep from dangers rather than send him down to it. "Not too many toys?" he asked, cocking his head at that. "Never heard of that rule."

Jamie leaned back in his arms so that he could poke at the neck of Tony's shirt, little face pensive. "Could I have three more?" he asked so earnestly that Tony smiled at him. "Maybe four?"

"Maybe five," Tony teased. "Shall we decide what type?"

Jamie nodded even as Jarvis came over the comms. "Sir, Captain Rogers would like to-"

"Is Adam upset or in danger?"

"No."

"Then no," Tony said, because he so didn't want to deal with it. "I'm tapping him in."

And then he strode to the sofa with his son and sat with a StarkPad in his hands, letting Jamie scroll through and ask all kinds of questions that seven year olds should just know. And he ignored the slither of him that questioned whether that had been the best call.

He'd turn himself around in circles, he decided as he pushed it from his mind. For an hour, someone else could navigate the painful minefield that was becoming their shit little family situation.

After all, that was the benefit of having other people, right? They could pick up the slack and have your back.


	10. Epilogue - Thirteen Years Later

It had arrived in the post of all things. Just a DVD that Tony had turned over in his hands, thinking it over and staring at the note and half wondering if they had time for this in the middle of all that was happening. In the end he hadn't been able to resist; any glimpse of Jamie, any little puzzle piece to help him understand just how much he'd missed all those year ago was unignorable in his mind.

So he slipped the DVD in and stood back, watching in the quiet of the new Avengers base and sucked in a breath at what came up.

The surveillance was grainy, but, in some ways, it was far too clear. A small child on the mats with an older man, fighting but not standing a chance as he was beaten down with the metal arm, with fists fuelled by super soldier serum. Off the mats, a far younger Jamie was stood, restrained by the guards but not reacting.

At all.

The moment of death was obvious. The little body gave a jerk and then fell limply and Tony wasn't at all sure what Barnes had done but the result was incontestable.

One of the handlers stepped close and whispered something in Barnes' ear. Like a puppet cut from strings, suddenly Barnes slumped and then seemed to be studying the scene around him. Not really reacting, but not as robotic as he had been.

"We said that there would be consequences," the handler said loudly as he stepped back. "And, somewhere, you will remember how severe they are, if not the memory itself. The child on the floor was created from your genes," he said as the door opened and another set of guards brought Adam in. "As were these two."

It was too grainy to make out Barnes expression but he looked unsettled; the body language and the short movements seemed to radiate it.

"Though you created this one yourself," the handler said, stepping close to Adam who had absolutely no reaction to the physical proximity. A cruel slap was landed on the boy's cheek and he did nothing but turn his head and accept it. "He will be the next one should you abandon a mission again."

Tony was dimly aware of the ragged, shocked breath next to him as someone entered the room behind him. He didn't really need to check the security camera to see who it was.

"I created him?" Barnes sounded stunned by the information. "I don't…mine?" he asked and there was a building steel in his voice.

"There are more important things," the handler said, his tone turning soothing. "Remember, you work has-"

"Vasha rabota byla podarkom chelovechestvu . Vy pomogli sformirovat' stoletiye," Jamie's voice said clearly, the Russian pronounced perfectly.

The entire room turned to stare at him and Tony heard Steve come to a halt next to him, almost in the periphery of his vision.

His son had known Russian. How had he-

"One," Jamie continued on the screen. "End of the line." His voice was emotionless, as if he was parroting something back. "Steve."

The handler strode forward, Barnes stared at Jamie as if he was seeing a revelation and then, even as the hand rose to hit him, Jamie twisted and locked eyes with Adam.

"D4," the kid whispered.

They both suddenly screamed. Agonised noises but Adam started to shake while Jamie covered his ears and dug his nails into his hair, into his head as if to scrape out whatever was there. The hand fell and hit Jamie once, twice-

Barnes stepped forward and then looked confused and panicked, looking at Adam. He was breathing heavily, that was obvious even from the grained recording on the screen.

"Barnes knew," Tony heard himself say, oddly detached from the fact as he stared. "Which means," he added as he lifted his eyes to meet the suddenly fearful blue ones beside him, "you knew."

"Not everything," Steve relied quickly, his voice flushed with panic. "Tony we-"

He lifted his hand. And then sucked in a breath when, on screen, Adam went for the handler and, even as he did, Barnes went after him. Not to stop him but…

Barnes protected him. It was Adam that cracked the neck of the handler, but it was Barnes that killed most of the other people in that room. There were shouts from outside and Adam reached out for Jamie.

Jamie stopped screaming and threw himself at Adam. Arms reaching out to attach himself like some baby koala even as the door came down and Hydra agents with guns aimed them at the three of them.

Barnes stepped in front of the boys.

"The handler was the one who knew the triggers," Steve whispered, stunned. "They lost-"

"You knew," Tony said, staring and not giving a shit about what he was wittering on about because it was unravelling before him. All the clues he'd missed, why Jamie had been targeted. Why he should have guarded the kid like he was the most fragile thing in the world. "He knew what Jamie could do. That there was…god, that entire base was there to test him, wasn't it? To test the effect he was having on Adam. To see how close he was to being ready, to adapt the serum for him-"

To make him into a weapon.

"We knew that they had a plan for Jamie," Steve snapped. "We knew that Jamie was doing something to Adam. Why do you think we tried to separate them?"

"Separate them?" Tony breathed. "You…oh god," he whispered, stepping back. "You made Adam think that I didn't want him-"

"No," Steve yelled as the screen in front of them froze and then jolted as the recording was replaced with something else. "No, you did that. You picked Jamie-"

"Why didn't you say anything?" Tony asked, his mind dancing ahead suddenly. "Why not warn us?" When Steve looked away, Tony felt something like lead settle in his stomach as he glanced back at the screen, at the CCTV footage that had started all of this three months ago.

And felt like throwing up.

"You needed me ignorant," Tony said as he watched the same scene he'd watched a thousand times. The image of Jamie, all grown up. And it no longer made him flinch when Barnes pulled the trigger and Jamie's body jerked as it went down.

"You always knew this would happen," he hissed, rounding on Steve. "You told me, you said 'every time someone tries to stop a war before it starts, people die, they get hurt'. You said that-"

"It wasn't like that."

"You and Barnes, you always had a contingency plan. To kill my son if it was needed. Didn't you?"

Steve closed his eyes. "Tony," he whispered. "We never-"

"You have ten minutes," Tony sneered. "And then I will hunt you down and put you next to Barnes. And believe me; every Avenger we've ever trained will help me do it. This isn't a war, Rogers. This is the fucking end of it."


End file.
